


Nearly Witches

by multidimensionallifeform



Category: Magisterium Series - Holly Black & Cassandra Clare
Genre: Ableist Language, Call can talk to animals, I love Havoc so much, IM SO HYPE FOR THIS, Im probably going to be updating these as I go??, M/M, So there are mentions of fights and descriptions of fights but not any gore, YOU KNOW IT MAN, anyway, superhero au, yeah essentially that happens, yeet, yknow that scene in the books where Jasper Says Stuff and Tamara Puddings him?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2018-09-25 10:09:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 46,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9814769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multidimensionallifeform/pseuds/multidimensionallifeform
Summary: In a city with three resident superheroes, everybody finds it a bit strange that crime is still rampant, but whatever.Caped Justice is the favorite, all charming smiles and perfectly messy blond hair. Nobody's entirely sure what his superpower is, but he stops crime and saves lives, and on top of it all seems like a well rounded young man.Convict appeared out of nowhere one night, and hasn't stopped saving lives since. She's graceful and beautiful and uses her water powers to annihilate anybody who tries to disrupt the peace of the city.Radar... only really works at night. He can talk to animals, but it seems he'd rather not talk to his fellow humans. He  always seems to stop crimes that the other heroes don't even know is happening. He's the dependable one- if a crime is being committed he and his doggy partner will show up to stop it.Well, they're more effective than the cops and seem to be interesting kids. Let's see how this plays out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hype!! Hype hype!!
> 
> I'll be real with you- this probably isn't the best. Let me know if it is (eyes the kudos/comment buttons), but I'm having a lot of fun writing it. Besides, gotta love these guys. 
> 
> I don't own anything except the plot- characters go to Cassandra Clare and Holly Black (as you all know, but might as well mention it).
> 
> In case it's not clear- hero #1 is Tamara and hero #2 is Aaron. 
> 
> And... I think that's it?? Alrighty then. Hope you enjoy!!!

It was a dark and stormy night, and quite frankly, Call was mad about it.

It wasn’t just dark, it wasn’t just stormy _,_ no, it was dark _and_ stormy. The universe (or whatever criminal he was hunting down) was obviously out to get him.

To be fair, during a power outage in the middle of a lightning storm was the best time to commit a crime, so Call couldn’t blame the criminal, but hey here's an idea, _don’t break the law maybe._

Call was mostly mad that Havoc would smell like wet dog later.

Speak of the devil, Havoc was trotting back to Call now, his tongue lolled out of his mouth and his fur soaked. He looked like an ordinary dog in this light.

 _Yeah, he’s definitely attempting to rob the bank. Emphasis on attempting. Poor guy can’t even figure out how to get the door open,_ Havoc told him.

Call sighed. Havoc did too.

“Do you think he’ll lose his nerve and go home if he can’t even get in, or will we have to chase him away?” Call asked Havoc. He didn’t bother whispering, the rain would cover the sound of his voice.

Havoc tilted his head to the side. Call had to wonder what he was hearing.

_Your call. You’re the one that can usually tell, anyway. Isn’t that why we’re here in the first place?_

Havoc had a good point.

“How about I wait at the corner and watch him? I can’t quite tell if this one’s gonna cut himself off or not,” Call proposed. Havoc shook his head. It was surreal, for a moment, to be talking to an oddly human wolf in the rain, but you know, superpowers.

 _Go to the roof,_ Havoc said. Call immediately started to protest, but Havoc bared his teeth, which was his way of saying, “shut up for a second”.

 _Listen. I’ll cover the corner so that if the chump goes in, I’ll be able to trap him. You need to go the roof so that when he_ **_does_ ** _go in, you can trip the alarm by going in through the hatch at the top, also effectively putting you in the position to deal with him and giving other animals the quick route to get to him._

“How do you know there’s a hatch in the roof?”

_We were in this bank earlier with your dad for like an hour, you unobservant pile of-_

“Woah woah woah, this is a bank?”

Havoc sighed again. Call snickered.

 _You humans, always on your phones,_ Havoc joked. Call threw a pebble at him.

“Anyway, I’m a little annoyed that you come up with better plans than I do, but I’ll get over that. One thing, though- how am I supposed to get on the roof, Captain-Chief-Bossman?” Havoc rolled his eyes.

_There’s a fire escape._

“Okay, that sounds reasonable, but one more thing. I just need to clarify- you want me to make a four meter drop into a building with tile flooring and then fight a criminal? Like, I can, but also, I can’t,” Call gestured to his leg.

 _Solve both problems at once,_ Havoc said, adopting his doggy smile. It looked a little menacing. _Don’t drop onto the tile- drop onto the criminal._

Call paused for a moment, thinking, before matching his partner’s smile.

 _Don’t break a leg,_ Havoc said as Call stood and started walking towards the side of the bank. Havoc was right, there was a fire escape.

“Don’t break anybody else’s,” Call responded.

As soon as Call reached the fire escape, he knew it would be a hard climb. Since it was dark and stormy (ugh), he couldn't see a foot in front of him and the black-painted steel steps were slippery. Oh joy.

Not to mention his leg would be aching the whole way up.

Call sighed and pulled himself up the first stair. His foot slipped, he gripped the railing like a lifeline, and by the grace of God he didn’t fall.

He pulled himself up the next stair.

And the next.

And the next.

And the next.

By the time he got to the top, he was sweating (which was beyond uncomfortable in cold rain, but _whatever)_ and aching (darn leg) and his heart was going bezerk from the amount of times he almost fell.

Call plunked to the ground and huffed out a long breath. _I must have great breath capacity from all the sighing that I do,_ Call thought. He fell back so that he was laying on the roof, with rain pelting his face (to his annoyance).

 _I don’t wanna move,_ he thought, knowing he still had to go beat up a criminal.

Call heaved himself over, rolling onto his stomach. He glanced around the roof. He still couldn’t see anything.

 _Havoc?_ Call shouted mentally. _Where’s that hatch you were talking about? I can’t see squat._

 _It’s near the street facing side of the building, on the left,_ Havoc responded readily. Call sent out his acknowledgement and started to army crawl over there.

 _I can’t tell if this is the height of laziness or fitness,_ Call thought as he dragged himself through a puddle.

When he was around the area Havoc had indicated, he glanced around to see if there was any sort of hatch.

That’s when something large and heavy attacked him.

Call instantly rolled away, then pushed himself into a crouch ( _ow_ ) and whipped hair out of his eyes, looking around frantically for the attacker.

There was a dark figure in a lump on the ground in front of him, who quickly went through the same motions that Call had seconds prior. Then they were two silhouettes, poised to attack, facing each other in the rain.

Call wanted to say he could see the fiery glow of his opponent’s eyes, or the fierce set of his opponent’s mouth, or the danger etched into the lines of their face. Call, in reality, could not see anything except a vaguely darker thing in front of him that had raised fists.

“Who are you?” The figure barked.

“Who are _you_?” Call asked.

“I asked first.”

“I was here first.”

“Yeah, I _know,_ but you _shouldn’t have been,_ which is why I’m asking who you think you _are._ ” The figure was getting fired up.

“Woah, you changed the question. Besides, what do you want from me, registration? I don’t need no freakin’ registration,” Call responded. He almost forgot somebody was trying to rob a bank right below him. His leg was killing him from crouching for so long.

_Call? Are you okay?_

“Yeah, well, you got in the way of my rounds, which isn’t very much appreciated. I’ve got things to do, people to save,” the figure said.

_Call?_

“Excuse me? _You_ attacked _me_ , I did nothing!”

_Call, would you mind responding?_

“I did no such thing! I _tripped_ on you, cause you were in the way, fooling around.”

_Seriously dude, talk to me._

“I was not- _am_ not fooling around!”

_Call, tell me you didn’t lose consciousness again._

“Oh yeah? Then what _are_ you doing?”

_Call, please._

“As it would happen-”

It was at that moment that Havoc started barking hysterically. Call heard a huge crash from the street, which got him to his feet instantly ( _ow ow ow_ ).

He moved as quickly as he could to the edge of the roof, straining his eyes to try and see what was happening. The figure was next to him.

Somebody lunged into the bank (Call caught a glimpse of blond hair) just as they got to the end of the roof. Havoc, surprisingly, was faced away from the door of the bank. He was barking, hackles raised, at… seemingly nothing.

Call was unsettled.

His instincts flared.

Then Call was panicked.  

_Havoc?_

_Call! Took you long enough._ Havoc sounded concerned. Call felt his stomach drop.

 _Later,_ Havoc said. _Right now, we’ve got bigger problems. There’s another one coming in. How’s this guy feel?_

_Dangerous. Really, really dangerous._

Call saw Havoc’s hesitation.

 _There are two other superheroes here,_ Call told him, hoping to help. A plan was forming in his head, but he needed to know what Havoc thought. They were partners for a reason.

_I can hold whoever this is off by myself, you take care of the guy in the bank. He actually managed to get through the door, it was pretty astounding to watch._

Call hesitated. Usually he listened to Havoc without question, but…

“What’s that dog growling at?” The figure asked. Call had forgotten about them.

_Be careful Havoc, I mean it._

_Loud and clear, Callum._

_Don’t call me that!_

Call turned to the figure. This would be fun.

“There’s somebody robbing the bank right now, which I was _trying_ to stop before you attacked me,” Call told them. He figured they were a superhero from the way they were talking, but now it was time for them to do the work. With the new threat approaching that felt like death, this was getting serious fast.

“First of all, I didn’t attack you. Second, why didn’t you tell me this earlier? Let’s go foil this criminal’s plan so we can both turn in for the night and never see each other again,” the figure remarked. Call hummed in agreement and walked to the place that the hatch was supposed to be in. Surprisingly enough, it was easier to find now that he was on edge.

He knelt next to it and was about to pull it open, but he stopped himself.

“Don’t be surprised, there’s going to be another superhero down there too,” Call told the figure.

“Oh for crying out-”

Call wrenched the hatch open, and immediately a loud alarm started blaring. Red lights flashed inside the building (there must’ve been some sort of generator, which wasn’t surprising for a bank) and Call strained his eyes for a look at what was happening.

The figure jumped down the hatch without hesitation.

Call leaned down a bit further, then sighed, and moved to sit on the edge of the hatch. He waited for the criminal to stand directly beneath him (he could see two people who were obviously heroes and one that was obviously wearing all black), then slid off the roof and into the bank.

The euphoria of falling lasted for a second before he landed, thankfully, not on tile.

 _Please tell me I didn’t land on one of the heroes,_ Call thought a second before he looked down.

Below him was a crumpled form wearing all black. He pumped his fist internally (couldn’t look lame in front of other heroes), but could only celebrate for a moment before the criminal rolled and Call was thrown off.

Call quickly got back to his feet, and was pleased to see signs of pain and weariness from the criminal. And that sounds insensitive, but beating up bad guys was his _job,_ okay?

“Nice one,” said a new voice, and Call assumed it was the hero not-from-the-roof. Hero the Second.

“Match it,” Call said, meaning “Let’s all fight good so we can get this over with cause I _still_ do not have a good feeling about this.”

“Gladly,” hero #2 said, then leapt forward to engage in hand-to-hand combat with the criminal. Call only had a second to be impressed. He had things that he needed to do if they wanted to win this fight.

As hero #1 stepped forward to help #2, Call stepped back and started thinking fast.

What did he _really_ feel from the unknown threat Havoc was holding off? The criminal in the bank didn’t seem very dangerous, so Call wasn’t worried about him. He needed to know what to do about Havoc’s hazard- small and agile or big and strong? Teeth or claws?

_Havoc, status?_

_These... don’t seem to be people._

_Are they animals then?_

_I think they’re supposed to be._

_How many of them are there?_

_Don’t worry, I can handle this._

**_How many of them, Havoc?_ **

_...I wouldn’t hesitate to call this an army._

Call reeled from this new information. If he wasn’t scared before, he sure was now.

“Hey, do you plan on helping us?” #1 called. Call barely spared them a thought, he was thinking through his options. How many housepets were in the area? Wasn’t there are bear or two in the nearby woods? Why couldn’t he seem to remember?

“Can’t you take care of a novice like that yourself?” Call shouted back, still not thinking about it.

“He’s got a switchblade, you moron, now get over yourself and come help us!”

Call barely heard them.

“Uhh, little busy!” Call shouted back. He was still sorting through his mental list, thinking, thinking. How could they beat an army? Could they beat an army?

Maybe. Maybe they could.

Call stopped trying to sort through his list. If this was an army, they couldn’t be choosy. This was a call to everybody they could get.

Call took a deep breath. _Sorry in advance guys._

 **_WAKE UP EVERYONE!_ ** Call mentally projected- as loud and far as he possibly could. A few wild animals were probably very upset at him right now.

**_I KNOW A LOT OF YOU DON’T KNOW ME AND A LOT OF YOU ARE MAD THAT I’M ASKING FOR A FAVOR AT SUCH AN HOUR, BUT THERE’S AN ARMY OF… MONSTERS, I ASSUME. HAVOC AND I NEED YOUR HELP._ **

Call heard a bit of chatter coming back through, but he couldn’t quite make any of it out.

**_IF YOU COULD COME TO THE BANK AND HELP US, I’D BE IN YOUR DEBT. THAT’S ALL._ **

Call slipped out of the state of mind it took to project like that, and his ears started ringing. He was only slightly dizzy.

Promising like that to a bunch of wild animals… was not his best idea. Animals took debts very seriously. In fact, Call had no doubt in his mind that Havoc was trying to scold him right about now, and Call just couldn’t hear over the buzzing in his ears.

But, Call was getting a seriously bad feeling from the “army” outside. Like, really, really, really, really bad. And Havoc was fighting it all by himself.

Call’s hearing was clearing up, and the sight he hadn’t noticed was gone was coming back, as well as some semblance of balance. He hadn’t ever tried to talk to that many animals at once before. He hadn’t even thought he could do it. Superpowers, man.

 _Call!Call?Call-Callum?Cally!_ **_Call?_ ** _Call._ **_Callum!_ ** _CALL?!Call…-UM!-all._ **_CALL!_ **

A cacophony of voices were flying in and out of his head, and he couldn’t concentrate. The animals were all trying to respond, but he could only get the general jist of it; They were coming. They were all trying their best to come help him and Havoc.

He could only be relieved for a second before he felt his arms being wrenched behind his back and a blade put to his throat.

Right, of course, the bank robber. That guy.

“Oh, great. Little busy, huh? Thanks a lot,” #1 said sarcastically. The two superheroes were standing in front of him now, panting.

“Seriously guys? I honestly expected better. I mean, I don’t know who you are, but I’d assume if you were superheroes you could take down a guy who can’t even open a bank door,” Call responded. He had bigger things to worry about than a knife to his throat, when Havoc was out there with an army.

_Call! Did I just hear you say you have a knife to your throat?_

...Did Call project that thought?

_Yes!_

Is he accidentally projecting every thought he has?

_You are, yeah. I will come in there and fight that guy if I have to, army or not._

_Speaking of, how are you holding up?_ Call had to know. He was pretty sure that #1 or #2 or the robber was saying something, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

_I’m holding up. These guys don’t really know how to fight, and the reinforcements you called for should help._

_That’s good to hear._

_Okay, I’m glad that_ **_you’re_ ** _reassured, now please get the knife away from your throat._

_If you insist._

Call dug around in his head for whatever was projecting his thoughts, but ended up just switching out of thought projection mode entirely. Which meant he couldn’t talk to any of the animals, but he didn’t want them knowing everything going through his head.

“You two,” the criminal said (his voice was high- was he nervous?), “Go unlock the safe and bring me every cent in there, or your partner gets it.”

Call snorted.

“We’re not partners,” #1 said cooly. Call was holding back a laugh.

“We’re also not going to let him “get it”, whatever that means,” #2 said. Seems that one actually had morals.

#2 started walking over to the counter and jumped it, and #1 followed huffily. Call was touched.

“Now that it’s just you and me,” Call said, “I can’t wait to get better acquainted.”

“Shu-”

The criminal didn’t get to finish his thought as Call promptly threw all his weight backwards and twisted his body violently, putting all his support onto his functioning leg and slamming them both off the wall and down to the floor.

The criminal had, of course, jerked the knife, but it only nicked his cheek, so Call was fine.

_That worked? Alright._

Call rolled away from the criminal, who was pushing himself off the ground.

“See, this is your introduction to a hero that doesn’t fool around,” Call finished, standing with the criminal.

“The other two were just as cocky,” the criminal said. Call sighed.

“Yeah, and you ended up using a basic hostage situation against them since you didn’t want to fight anymore. You’re only making things worse for yourself buddy,” Call slid into his fighting stance, doing his best to balance his weight and keep the pain in his leg to a minimum.

“You see, you’ve made the mistake of bringing me into the game,” Call said, trying his best to be intimidating. It was probably working.

The criminal lunged towards him. Maybe the intimidation wasn’t working.

Call dodged, to the right of course, and pivoted around to face the criminal again. The criminal was wasting no time in coming after Call again, and suddenly Call realized what was so hard about fighting a person that had a switchblade.

One could take a punch. One could not so easily take a cut or a stab.

_Alright then, primary objective- get the blade away from the criminal._

Call dodged around the criminal, effectively putting him behind the guy. Call then wasted no time in dropping down and slamming himself into the back of the criminal’s knees.

The criminal went crashing down as Call moved and got back to his feet. Before the criminal could get back up, Call stepped hard ( _ow_ ) on his wrist. He let go of the blade immediately, and Call kicked it across the floor of the bank.

The criminal had gotten up, but that was fine, because now this was a fair fight.  

The criminal, who now seemed to be having trouble using his right hand, took a step towards Call and threw a punch. See, this was definitely easier than a knife fight.

Call ducked under the criminal’s arm and smashed his shoulder into the criminal’s chest. The criminal made a small “oof” sound as he and Call flew backwards. This would be childishly easy if Call’s leg wasn’t burning.

The criminal was moving his arm in, either to suffocate Call or hold him in one place, so Call dropped down again and took the opportunity to grab onto the criminal’s knees and pulling, (again) sending him to the ground.

Call sat on his chest and pinned his arms down.

“There are a lot of more effective ways to get money than robbing a bank. Getting a job, for example. Don’t do crime,” Call told the criminal through his heavy panting. Fights take a lot out of a guy, okay?

“It’s not that easy,” the criminal spat.

 “No, probably not, and yet people do it anyway. Whose money do you think is in this bank?”

The criminal was about to respond, but that was when #1 and #2 came back. Call almost sighed in relief.

“Do either of you guys have rope?” He shouted. He heard hurried footsteps, then #1 and #2 each took one of the criminal’s wrists. Call got off him and pulled him up, then they forced his hands behind his back.

#1 produced a rope, his wrists were tied together tightly, and that was that.

Call wanted so badly to sit down, or lay down, or go home, but Havoc was still outside.

He felt a flash of pure panic when he realized Havoc hadn’t contacted him in a while, but quickly remembered that he’d shut off all communication systems (wow, that made him sound like a robot).

He wondered how things were going out there.

The other two heroes were walking towards him now, but Call had to go outside and help Havoc and whatever other animals had shown up. Now that he wasn’t distracted with a fight, the overwhelming feeling of DANGER DANGER DANGER was back and Call was getting frantic, fast.

“How did you take him down all by yourself?” #1 asked indignantly. Call didn’t have time for this.

“Got the knife away from him. Obviously. How didn’t you two manage it?”

Call started to move towards the door, but #1 wasn’t done.

“No, I’m serious. This guy was crazy fast and crazy strong and had reflexes like I’ve never seen before. It wasn’t just the knife that was stopping us, you cocky neanderthal,” #1 was dumbfounded now. Call paused, his hand on the door handle.

“We were gone for no more than five seconds,” #2 said quietly. They sounded even more confused than #1.

“Not possible. That fight was at least 30.” Call’s tone was clipped. He needed to go help Havoc.  

“Well, obviously something strange is happening. Since we all know the cops are going to take a while longer to show, let’s take this time to question everybody and figure out what’s going on here,” #1 said. There was conviction in their voice.

No. Call had to go. There was no two ways around it. _Havoc._

Call shook his head and opened the door, and ignored the heroes’ shouts as he walked away. Or, he tried to. Somebody grabbed his wrist. Call thought he could hear the sound of a fight through the rain, but maybe it was just his imagination. He _needed_ to _go._

“What’s your name?” #2 asked him. Call could barely hear over his racing thoughts.

Call shrugged them off and walked (quickly as he could with his leg aching) in the direction he thought he heard the fight coming from. The other heroes could deal with everything he was leaving behind, and he never had to see any of them again. _Havoc._ Havoc was the one that mattered.

Call walked and walked, to the point that he thought he was going in the wrong direction. This was… pretty far away from the bank. And yet, ever so slightly through the pouring rain, he could hear a horde of animals. Somewhere, somewhere.

He kept going, spinning in circles and straining his eyes and ears and growing short of breath.

When he finally came across the rumble in an obscure alley, he could hardly breathe.

Maybe that was due to his leg, or all the walking, but he was fairly sure he could fault it to the noxious scent in the air.

It was chaos.

Animals of all sizes were locked in vicious combat with dark… forms. Call could hardly see anything. Remember- it was _dark_ and stormy.

Call spent a second searching for Havoc in the mess, but ended up ducking behind a trash can. He took a deep breath. Then he reopened his mental communication channel.

There was immediately a flood of voices and sounds and noises that gave him a headache. He couldn’t make out a word of it.

There was also… a darkness? A shroud. It was foreign, and fundamentally wrong, but Call tried his best to look past it and push down his panic.

 _Everyone is talking at once,_ Call projected, avoiding the shroud. The noise in his head increased instantly, then died down. A lot.

Animals were much more put together than humans.

_Call!_

That was-

 _Havoc! What’s happening?_ The sound of the animals fighting it out in the alley was bloodcurdling, and Call was terrified. He couldn’t even see the enemy. What had Havoc said? Monsters? An army?

_These are monsters, Call. They’re too strong and too fast for us, I don’t know what to say. All of the birds that responded to your plea flew out, trying to lead them all off, but only about 75% of the monsters were actually drawn away. I don’t know their state as of now, my mental projection isn’t as good as yours._

Call started to withdraw from his and Havoc’s conversation so he could contact the birds, but-

_That’s not all, though._

_What else can there be?_ Call didn’t like where this was going.

_This whole ‘hero’ thing tends to be a bit of a game to you, but you have to take this one seriously. These monsters- they’re lethal._

_Yeah, okay-_

_I mean it Call. Be careful here. This is more than you think._

With that final comment, Havoc cut off contact with him. Call was sucked back into the present, with the fight going on around him, and the wild feeling of DANGER DANGER DANGER twisting his gut.

He decided to check on the birds before diving in on anything.

He scanned his mental map, and found there _was_ a forest nearby. He threw a message out in the general direction of the forest, a quick inquiry.

Right when he felt the start of a response coming through, a form leaped out of the darkness and slammed into him.

_Led away. Safe now._

Call rolled away from the… dog? It was a bit big to be a dog... _wolf_. Call rolled away from the wolf while it ran forward to attack him again.

Call found himself scared, more than usual. The wolf had hit him hard. This wasn’t a game.

The wolf reached him, stretched for him with clawed paws, and Call kicked it with his right leg. It whimpered, but didn’t stop advancing.

Call kicked it again, and again. It didn’t stop trying to maul him. The claws nicked his arms, his chest. Nothing deep- Call didn’t stop kicking. Now he was pushing at the wolf with his arms, trying to get it away from him.

Its eyes were stormy, swirling, wild. Fiery, a thousand colors. Call was scared. He was going to die.

The wolf pushed forward a little harder and Call’s arms gave out.

Call closed his eyes.

The furry mass was shoved away from him.

Call opened his eyes to see Havoc, snarling for a second before he jumped forward and attacked the other wolf viciously. Call had to look away.

All around him, in the alley, in the road, animals were fighting the wolf-monsters. It wasn’t pretty. Call felt a little sick, even. There were cats and dogs and badgers and bears and foxes and rabbits, none of which Call had expected to see here. There were mice in the corner gaining up on a wolf.

There was only one problem.

Looking around, Call knew they were fighting a losing battle.

These monsters were too strong, and there were too many. What would happen if the ones the birds led away came back? They were all doomed either way.

Call wanted to tell the animals to go home, then run himself. But then what would happen to the civilians?  

_Stupid useless superpower, all I can do is get everyone to do things for me, or I’d be fighting just the same._

_Stupid bum leg._

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

Another wolf leapt out of nowhere to attack him, and Call barely pushed this one away. He pushed, he kicked, he tripped, he punched.

It was a monster.

Call was running out of breath.

And the night went on like this, Call and the animals around him barely keeping the monsters at bay and barely keeping up with the pace. Losing battle or not, it seemed they would fight it.

Call was covered in sweat and blood and dirt, soaking wet from the pouring rain, covered in scratches and bruises, and felt his legs and lungs burning when the monster that was attacking him paused. Call, suddenly not being assaulted, looked around desperately for Havoc.  

All the other monsters had paused too, and were looking in a single direction.

Call didn’t want to see what they were looking at, but he kind of had to look, didn’t he?

And when he did, what did he see except a human-like silhouette standing on the roof of the building they were next too? Of course. These were controlled monsters.

 _An army’s gotta have a commander,_ Call thought as the figure raised their arm.

The monsters all stiffened, only for a second, then they walked away.

That was it.

They just _walked away._

Call and Havoc and all these other animals had spent the past, what, _half hour_ fighting these things _tooth_ and _nail_ and _barely surviving_.

Call was tired _,_ Call was hurt _,_ Call could hardly breathe _,_ but now he was _angry._

 _Call-_ Havoc started. Call shut off mental communications again. Havoc wasn’t going to talk him out of this.

And so, despite it all, Call lugged himself off the ground and limped towards the rusty ladder of the side of the building.

His hands gripped the rungs, and he hauled himself off the ground. So what if it hurt? Everything hurt. So what if it was wet and raining? It had been for the past hour or two.

Up one rung. He could only use one leg to climb, but he would climb nonetheless.

Up the next. There wasn’t any breath in his lungs.

Up the next. He heard Havoc barking wildly.

Up.

Up.

Up.

Up.

The roof was splattered with puddles, and the rain seemed louder in the wide open space. Call could barely make out the human figure, but he _could_ see through the dark so he _did._ At this point, next to nothing was still _something_.

“Hey, jerkface!” Call shouted as loud as he possibly could, channeling all his anger into his voice.

The figure turned and looked at Call. Call couldn’t care less what they were looking at.

“Who,” Call said coldly, “do you think you are?”

Call heard sirens in the distance. He guessed the cops were finally showing up at the bank.

“Who am I?” The figure laughed. Call felt his stomach tug. Thunder echoed through the sky. The figure walked closer to Call, but he didn’t give up an inch.

They were a foot apart from each other, and Call could see their face in a flash of lighting. Or- a mask over their face.

The figure put a hand on Call’s shoulder.

**_DANGER DANGER DANGER DAN-_ **

“Why, I’m the Enemy of Death, of course.”

 

**\--**

 

Call may have cut off communications, but that couldn’t stop Havoc from being aware of his state of consciousness. So to say, Havoc knew the second Call passed out.

He immediately started to panic (and can you really blame him?), but what he didn’t expect was to see Call’s body flung off the roof.

It would be comical if this wasn’t a deadly situation.

_Stupid, useless, dumb paws that can’t catch him._

Havoc frantically ran towards the spot where Call was falling, but knew that he ultimately would be able to do nothing. Couldn’t he try?

_Stupid boy making stupid choices doing stupid things._

Havoc watched as Call fell, almost in slow motion. He wasn’t ready for this. Maybe he could run and lead the cops here?

_Oh, no no no no no no no, please no._

Couldn’t he do something? He’d always been able to save Call, why not now? He _had_ to.

 _WhatdoIdowhatdoIdowhatdoIdo_ -

A giant, hulking black bear reared up on her back legs, and caught Call in her front arms. The bear barely had the balance to do it, but she managed.

Havoc felt relief wash through him, and ran forward as the bear put Call down gently.

 _Thank you,_ Havoc told the bear. She nodded.

 _Everybody go home,_ Havoc told everyone in the alley. _We’re done here. Thank you._

The animals filed out, and Havoc sat at Call’s side.

The cold rain in his face would wake him up soon enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allllllright uhhh so hey let's pretend it hasn't been literal months yeah anyway. I spent, multiple all-nighters plotting this thing out? Hooo boy do I have Plans. Strap in guys. Also get ready for MORE FREQUENT UPDATES I SWEAR I WON'T LEAVE YOU FOR THIS LONG EVER AGAIN IM SO SORRY ahem. Also, real quick: you're all so kind. I keep getting notifications about comments and kudos on this fic and every time I see them I get so happy. Everybody is so awesome in the comments, whenever I need motivation to write I scroll through them, and by now I've read them so. many. times. You guys are the best. Thank you!!
> 
> Note the title of the fic is from that one panic at the disco song cause I listen to Vices every time I reread the books so, 
> 
> Another Note did I mention I have a tumblr? Tired-pirate it's lit and all magisterium. Yay sideblogs. 
> 
> That should be it? Okay? 
> 
> *Jazz hands*

Dog slobber is, arguably, the most disgusting substance in existence, and it was currently being coated all over Call’s face. 

Call groaned and pushed Havoc away, though the very act of moving made his aching muscles burn _. _ The pain was still better than getting licked awake by a wolf. Of course, his weak human attempts were feeble against the might of a determined wolf (meaning: Havoc continued to lick).

_ Arise, lazy human, thou hast school today.  _

Call groaned again, louder this time, and bopped Havoc on the nose. 

“Where’s the snooze button?” He mumbled into his pillow, “I’m weak and have bruises the size of watermelons from last night, give me five more minutes.”

_ No rest for the weary. I’ve let you sleep in as long as possible. _

Is a bed ever more comfortable than when you have to get out of it and face the world? 

“Alright, no school today then,” Call said as he pulled his blanket up to his chin. He had (painfully) trudged home in the cold rain at roughly 2am last night, and was not up to existing today. Not to mention, bruises always hurt more the day after. 

Havoc, of course, was having none of it. He huffed a mighty huff, then pushed Call out of bed. Call hit the ground with a thump and a whine (his entire body  _ ached,  _ being pushed off a bed didn’t feel too great). He never let go of his blanket, though. He could lose dignity, he could lose sleep, but his blanket would not be taken from him. 

_ I wasn’t kidding when I said I let you sleep in as long as possible,  _ Havoc said, joining Call on the floor and starting to harass him again.  _ You have to be at school in ten minutes and it takes twelve minutes to get there on skateboard.  _

Call froze. 

Despite all of his griping, he really did have to be at school today. There was a math test to deal with, and today was the last day for working on a science project that was about half done. Not to mention, make up work would be impossible, and he’d miss a lot of learning that one has to get straight from the teacher if one wants to understand anything. 

So to say, he was doomed.

Call shot up and started changing out of his pajamas at record speed, moving through the pain. It wasn’t like it was going to hurt any less, and at a certain point he had to suck it up (though his dumb bum leg was stiff and stabbing with pain, but he couldn’t do very much about  _ that,  _ now could he?). Havoc was laughing at him, and Call shot him a quick look that he hoped conveyed “I have never hated you more than I do in this moment.”

Call raced out of his room with his outfit in disarray, but on his body, at least. Havoc pelted down the stairs ahead of him as Call grabbed his backpack. Call practically flew down the steps, only to lose his footing near the bottom. The world tipped and his stomach was in his throat, but he crashed into Havoc. Falling into a fluffy mass of dog was infinitely better than hardwood floors. 

_ You’re welcome,  _ Havoc remarked smugly as Call pushed himself up and trudged (speedily) down the hallway. 

“I am not  _ that _ predictable, you mangy mutt!” Call hollered through a mouthful of granola bar. Havoc lolled his tongue out of his mouth. 

Call stormed into the garage, unsurprised to find his dad. His dad, however, was surprised to see him. 

“Call, aren’t you supposed to be long gone by now…?” Alastair asked. 

“I have eight minutes to be at school or I’m going to get ten points docked from my math test, which we both know I can’t afford. Can I get a ride?” 

Alastair considered his mess of a son, who was panting in the doorway to the garage, wearing his shirt inside out, and hadn’t bothered to fix his supreme bedhead. 

“Get in the car,” he said resolutely, grabbing his keys. Call smirked in relief before darting to the passenger seat of the Rolls Royce that was taking up most of the garage. Alastair punched the garage door opener before ducking into the driver’s seat. 

Alastair started the ancient engine as the garage door rose, and made eye contact with his son. 

“Let’s motor,” they said at the same time, and Alastair pulled out of the garage and down the driveway. 

“You’ll have to remind me where your school is,” Alastair stated as he raced down streets in the general direction he thought they should be going. Call snorted. 

“You think I know?” Call asked. 

Alastair took a hand off the wheel specifically to facepalm. 

“You skateboard to school every morning, and you don’t know how to get there?” Alastair asked. 

“Nope,” Call said, popping the “P”. “I cut through the woods.”

Alastair sighed, then replaced his hand on the wheel. 

“Then we’re going cold turkey,” Alastair said intensely. The Rolls Royce rumbled down the streets as fast as Alastair dared to push it. He scanned the horizon for Call’s school, looking for any hint that they were going in the correct direction. Call kept nervously checking the time. 

“Dad!” Call exclaimed, suddenly. Alastair immediately slowed the car down, thinking Call had spotted something that he recognized was on the way to school. 

“No, don’t slow down! We’re by the Mendy’s! This is the complete wrong side of town!”

Alastair gripped the steering wheel tighter. 

“What do you suggest we do, then?” 

They both sat as their time ticked away, thinking desperately.

“I know,” Call said suddenly. “The school is on Main Street, I remember that at least. If you drive down Main long enough, we’ll get there eventually.”

It sounded like a plan to Alastair, so he kicked the car back into gear and tore off down Main Street, away from the Mendy’s. 

Call was right, once they had driven long enough on Main, the school came into view. Call was instantly relieved, but then he checked the time again. 

He had a minute to get to class. 

Call leaped from the car as soon as his dad pulled over to the curb. He shouted a quick “thanks” back to his dad before slamming the door shut and making his way towards the school building as fast as he could. If he thought his muscles ached before, now they were really on fire. He had to put up with it. 

He made it into the school all right, the doors were still unlocked, but he still had yards of unforgiving hallways to traverse in thirty seconds. 

He couldn’t run ( _ darn leg _ ), but he shuffle like Hell Hounds were after him, and shuffle he did. His heart was beating twenty times a second, which is how he counted down how much time he had until his demise. 

The bell rang as he burst into his math classroom. 

He stood, catching his breath inside the doorway. He could feel the blood pulsing through his body, and he was getting a headache from it all. His muscles and joints still  _ ached _ , and his leg stung. 

Mr. Lemuel was unamused. 

“Late, Callum. Please take your seat,” he said, sounding bored. Call, feeling numb, shook his head. 

“I’m not late,” he said between breaths. He had placed his foot inside of the classroom a moment before the bell rang. He had been inside the classroom before the bell. He  _ wasn’t  _ late _.  _

“My word is law, please take your seat,” Mr. Lemuel said again, with more force this time. As if that would work on Call. 

“Sir, I was definitely inside the classroom before the bell rang,” Call tried again. He was barely gaining his breath back now, although everything still hurt (yes, he keeps pointing out how much everything hurts, but he’s not going to stop, because pain is  _ terrible  _ and he wants to  _ complain about it _ ). 

“Don’t make me repeat myself again,” Mr. Lemuel said warningly. 

“That sentence… doesn’t make grammatical sense. “Repeating again”, while possible, is redundant,” Call stated, knowing that correcting somebody on their grammar was the fastest way to frustrate them as well as condescend to them, therefore giving you the upper hand in an argument. 

“Callum-”

“He really did,” piped a new voice. Call and Mr. Lemuel both looked towards the speaker.

“Come into class before the bell, I mean. I saw it,” Celia finished. She was looking Mr. Lemuel dead in the eye. 

Mr. Lemuel said nothing as Celia stared him down and Call wheezed in the doorway. This went on for a second. Two. Three. 

“All right,” Mr. Lemuel huffed. “You’ve made it this time, but don’t cut it this close again, understand?” 

Call nodded. 

“Good. Now, if you please,  _ sit down _ ,” Mr. Lemuel all but shouted. Call shot a smile to Celia, who grinned back at him, then trudged to his seat. When he plopped down on the hard, plastic chair, he knew instantly that he was in for a world of hurt. 

This was going to be a long day. 

The day got longer the moment Mr. Lemuel placed a thick math test in front of Call. Call ignored whatever Mr. Lemuel was saying, it never helped anyway, and started scanning the problems. 

_ You’re kidding,  _ Call thought, dread building.  _ I know how to solve roughly two of these. _

**\--**

Call resumed his usual seat on the bleachers while his classmates scrambled to the locker rooms. He had a regularly scheduled brooding session that was supposed to start, but his head was still spinning with numbers. 

He got through the test, but that’s the most he could say for it. Well. At least it was over.

Call took a few deep breaths to clear his mind, then settled into his regular brooding stance (hunched over, elbow on knee, hand on chin, bangs in face). Being the kid that had to sit out of PE made him stick out enough, but it also gave him a gross amount of restless energy. Dealing with it resulted in sneaking out at night and gradually becoming a superhero. Woohoo. 

Although, today he was a bit glad for his seat in the bleachers. Doing twenty pushups with the kind of bruises he had did not sound like a fun time. In fact, he could take this valuable free time to do some much-needed thinking.

What happened last night? 

Call thought back to the ugly battle in the alley, the monstrous monster things. What were they? They looked wolvish, but then again, so does a lot of modern art. Oh, heck, was the whole thing a symbolistic dream? Wait, no, he had wicked scratches from their claws. Symbolism doesn’t make you bleed. Physically. 

_Now that I think about it,_ _Havoc might know more about this than he’s letting off. He was pretty sure of himself last night._ Call sighed. _That, and he’s a wolf himself. Not that that means anything, but. Wolves don’t just show up in the middle of cities._

Whenever Call had asked Havoc questions about his origin, Havoc dodged having to answer. Call had long let that go. Maybe it was time to dig up the past.

Then, there was the question of the figure on the roof. Just thinking about the so called Enemy Of Death (dumb name, are they death’s enemy or are they made of death?) made his gut twist in that all too familiar fashion. Danger. Somebody was in danger. Somebody was dangerous. 

The feeling got stronger. Call felt his blood rush when he realized. This wasn’t a memory of an encounter, something was going down, somewhere in the city. There was danger. 

Usually if something happened during the day or while he was at school, Call would call the police and let them handle it. He had Deputy Charles’ personal number. However, after last night, Call wasn’t sure he wanted anybody else dealing with the crime in the city. It felt too dangerous for non-superheroes to take on, even if they had advanced weapons. 

Call remembered the figure on the roof. 

He felt the Enemy Of Death wasn’t something the cops could handle.  

His gut wrenched, and Call took a deep breath while his heart started racing. He pushed up from his brooding position, stretched for effect, and shuffled out from the bleachers. When he approached the PE teacher, she looked concerned. He had never actually talked to her, so, this would be an interesting first-ish impression. 

“Can I go to the nurse?” Call asked. “I have a bad case of the Mondays.”

The PE teacher’s expression dropped.

“Young man-” she started, scoldingly. Call’s Danger Sense (tm) got strong enough that he felt a little sick. He needed to move this along. 

He doubled over and clutched his head. He wasn’t good at acting, but at least he was extraordinary at being melodramatic. 

“Please Ma’am! The Mondays! I have the Mondays! I have to go to the nurse!” He let some desperation creep into his voice, and at least a little of the panic that was currently running his heart along at 120 beats per minute. 

“Woah, wai-” now she sounded confused. Not what he was going for. 

Call started to stand up straighter, then ended up toppling. He staggered and caught himself (a faked sequence, he had toppled to his right and caught himself on his uninjured leg, not that anybody would notice). He never stopped clutching his head. 

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” he said weakly. That part was real. His stomach was lurching. 

“Uh, do you need an escort to the nurse?” The teacher asked. 

“I- I think I’ll be fine. I just gotta go,” Call muttered before walking away. His pace was rushed, although the urgency behind it was different from what his PE teacher expected. 

_ There’s no way I pulled that off,  _ Call thought as he reached the door. 

“Aaron, can you walk with Call to the nurse?” 

_ Okay, so I didn’t pull it off.  _

Call didn’t slow down, but some kid rushed up to walk beside Call. Said kid, Aaron hopefully, looked like your classic jock. Call immediately didn’t like him, but then again, Call immediately doesn’t like a lot of people. 

As soon as the gym door shut behind them, Aaron smirked. 

“It’s Tuesday,” he said. He sounded… amused? Call responded by rolling his eyes. 

“It seems my particular case of the Mondays is so serious that it rolled over to today. This could be fatal.” Call was desperately trying to think how he was going to ditch this guy and get out of school without being caught. He had no clue how he had mental space to be sarcastic, but maybe it was just second nature. 

Were there any doors without cameras on them in this entire school? Call didn’t think so. Maybe he could climb through a window. Did this school have people watching the cameras 24/7 anyway? Maybe he could take the chance and just leave through a door. 

“The nurse might have a hard time believing that,” Aaron remarked. Call, thinking deeply, completely ignored him. 

“Why do you want to go to the nurse anyway? Were you getting antsy from sitting in the bleachers all block?” Aaron just never quit, did he?

“Something like that,” Call responded. The door out to the PE track was probably the least monitored, the one a threat is least likely to come from. Call would use that one, then. It was just down this hallway to the left. 

“Why don’t you ever treat it like a second Study Hall?” Aaron asked. 

“Mhmm,” Call agreed, because he wasn’t even listening at this point. His stomach was still lurching, and Call really wished he could move any faster than he was. He turned down the PE hallway, and found it blissfully empty. He was already planning his next move when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

Call ducked away from the hand and turned around to see Aaron still standing at the hallway intersection. Left to the nurse, right to the door. 

Aaron looked past Call to the door, then made eye contact. Quite suddenly, things felt very tense. Call would not have expected that. Aaron looked a little scary. 

“This is how you define ‘something like that’?” Aaron asked. He was trying to keep a friendly smile on his face, and Call gave him points for effort, but it only added to the intimidation. This is what you call passive aggressive. 

“Don’t tell me you’re one of the justice types,” Call said, tiredly, because he was tired. 

Aaron’s smile twisted a little, giving Call the impression he had said something funny. Or ironic. Probably ironic. 

“Call, let’s just go the nurse so she can give you an icepack and we can be on our ways,” Aaron reasoned. Was this kid serious? Call scoffed. Maybe he shouldn’t have, but he did. His chest gave a particular pang, something along the lines of There Is Seriously Danger Come On Dude on the scale. 

Aaron, meanwhile, seemed to grow more affronted from the scoff. Call took this moment to wish that he weren’t shorter than everybody in existence, because Aaron towering over him right now was kind of intimidating. Only kind of. 

“Is it tense in here or is it just me?” Call asked, trying to save the situation with his golden sense of humor. He was slowly backing towards the door. He needed to leave, fast, and get to the trouble. 

“You aren’t going through that door, stop trying,” Aaron remarked. Call was startled. It had definitely gotten tense in here. 

“I really don’t see how you’re going to stop me,” Call said. He seriously doubted Aaron would start a fight in the middle of the hallway. Even if he did, Aaron was going to lose said fight. 

“I could tell a teacher,” Aaron said. That stopped Call in his tracks. He couldn’t get in trouble about this, his dad would crack down about sneaking out and he wouldn’t be able to prowl the streets every night.

“I don’t see why you care so much,” Call huffed. He felt himself scowling. Aaron was smirking from having obtained the upper hand. 

“I care because there are some bad things out on the streets these days, and people shouldn’t be wandering outside all on their lonesome,” Aaron said smugly. It was Call’s turn to be affronted.

“I can read between the lines here, Aaron. Are you insinuating I’m trying to sneak out and wreak havoc?” Call asked. This was the height of irony. His stomach lurched again, simply to accentuate the situation, surely. 

Aaron leaned against the wall, still managing to face Call despite it. He looked really cool too. Darn. 

“I’m insinuating that  _ anybody _ could be wreaking havoc, that’s all,” Aaron said. Call suspected that Aaron was lying through his teeth. His stomach (danger sense) took that moment to turn over, while all his hair stood on end. 

Serious danger. 

Call had to leave, immediately. He’d deal with the consequences later. 

“Forget it,” Call said, trying to sound aloof and uncaring but in reality sounding a little weak. Nonetheless, he spun on his heel and walked briskly down the hallway. He heard Aaron shuffle behind him, then rapid footsteps. 

Call reached the door and wrenched it open. He slipped through and slammed the thing shut. Call knew there was no real way of barricading the door, so instead he sped his way to the woods that were right next to the school. He ducked into the thick shrubbery. These were the woods that he cut through everyday to get to school, so he had an immediate advantage over Aaron in that he knew the turf. 

Call’s stomach turned over again, sharply, and he was reminded of the tense situation he was in. He needed to work fast, because people were in definite, bad danger at this point. He sorted through things in his head to get everything done efficiently. 

Objective one, ditch Aaron.

Objective two, meet up with Havoc near scene of danger.

Objective three, stop danger.

Objective four, be back in time for third block science. 

This would work, right? Totally. 

Call was deep into the woods at this point, and when he looked over his shoulder, he judged that there was nobody anywhere near him. He’d managed objective one while he was still planning. Sweet. Making up for lost time here.

Objective two time.

_ Hey Havoc,  _ Call sent through the mental channel. Havoc would likely scold him for this.

_ What are you doing, Call?  _ Havoc responded. He sounded tired.

_ Danger, _ was all Call replied. He was too busy trying to chase down where the danger was to have an in-depth conversation at the moment. East side of town? Outside the Pizza Plaza? Roughly. Maybe. That seemed like the best bet.

His danger sense was never specific, okay?

_ Why don’t you call the cops like usual?  _ Havoc asked. He sounded alarmed. 

_ I don’t want them dealing with what we did last night,  _ Call thought. 

_ They’d probably be more qualified. You’re a kid and I’m a dog.  _

_ Weaponry wouldn’t affect the Enemy of Death,  _ Call responded matter-of-factly. He was walking down a weird side street now, trying to look casual and like he definitely didn’t just break out of school. 

_ That’s a dumb name,  _ Havoc thought.

_ I know, right? _

Havoc did the mental equivalent of an exasperated sigh.  _ Where do I meet you?  _

Call gave a mental fist pump. He was in the park at this point. He half considered commandeering a skateboard so he could move faster. 

_ Outside the dollar store,  _ Call told Havoc. Havoc sighed again. Call got a quick dizzy spell. That was Hurry Up I’m Not Kidding Anymore on the danger scale. Uh oh.

_ Be there now-ish,  _ Call told Havoc. Havoc didn’t bother to respond, but Call knew Havoc had heard him. 

Call, meanwhile, was getting to the busy side of town. He had to walk down this block and one other to get to the East side of town, then he had to walk all the way to the dollar store (which was directly next to the Pizza Plaza). 

His leg was already aching. He didn’t even want to move after brutally fighting and being pushed off a roof last night, but what could he do? He felt he was out of options here. 

So he walked, and walked, and walked, all the while growing more and more antsy as the tension in his chest built. Maybe he  _ should _ have called the police, if only for a ride. 

Eventually, he was out behind the dollar store, and Havoc was there too, panting. Call was relieved to see him. He crouched down in front of Havoc and caught his breath.

_ So what’s our gameplan? _ Call asked, opting for mental over verbal communication right now. The danger was likely a few meters away, but only a few meters away. His danger sense was definitely doing the equivalent of what a smoke detector does, so they needed to get to work. 

_ Can you tell me anything about the nature of the situation?  _ Havoc asked. Call took a second to analyze everything he was being told by his senses. 

_ They’re in the alley on the other side of the Pizza Plaza,  _ Call thought to Havoc.  _ There are a few wolf monster things there, and from the way my danger sense is going off, so’s the Enemy.  _

Havoc didn’t respond, he just looked over Call’s shoulder, in the direction of the scene. 

_ What is it Havoc?  _ Call asked. He was getting seriously nervous now. 

_ I smell blood, _ Havoc thought. Call’s breath caught. 

_ Let’s get closer and see what the scene looks like,  _ Call suggested. They obviously needed to do something, but what? Call couldn’t fight the Enemy. Neither could Havoc. Nobody could, from the look of things. 

Havoc and Call soundlessly inched around the dollar store to the alleyway. Call paused, listening acutely for any noise that could give away the Enemy’s position or objective. There was only a bit of cluttering from the other end of the alley. So, Call peeked around the edge of the wall, as did Havoc. 

Call couldn’t see them very clearly, but it seemed that the Enemy had somebody cornered. Two wolf monsters were growling, seemingly posed for attack. 

“Do you understand?” Said a voice that sounded a lot like the Enemy. 

“What the hell, dude? I know you’re trying to intimidate me into submission, but you’re only provoking me into hating you more,” spoke a different voice that very much did not sound like the Enemy. Call had to admire the kid’s nerve. However, one of the monsters gave a growling bark, and Call’s danger sense gave him a kick in the gut. Maybe that wasn’t the best move. 

A figure, Call assumed this one was the Enemy, slammed their hand into the wall. Call thought it was just an anticlimactic, dramatic tantrum until he heard cracking concrete. A sickly smell crept through the alley as a small cloud of dust rose. 

_ We have to get him out of there,  _ Call thought to Havoc. Havoc gave a short nod. 

_ I’ll take care of the wolf monsters. You handle the extraction.  _ Before Call could respond, Havoc leapt into the alley and ran straight for the monsters. While the Enemy and the wolves were momentarily distracted, Call moved silently around the corner and along the wall. The opposite wall had stopped crumbling, but Call could see the cracks spiderwebbing through it. At the epicenter of the cracks, Call’s eyes found on the kid he was saving. 

Jasper. 

Call internally groaned, but sped up his movements as his Danger sense gave a pointed pang. At this point, the Enemy had turned back to Jasper, supposedly assuming that the wolves could take on Havoc without much assistance. Call had to use a good old fashioned distraction, then. 

He snuck silently until he was standing slightly to the Enemy’s right, directly behind them. Then he tapped lightly on the Enemy’s left shoulder. 

When the Enemy whipped to the left, hands ready to attack, Call grabbed Jasper and pulled him behind a conveniently placed dumpster. From their position, the two should be virtually invisible to the Enemy. Hopefully. Also hopefully the Enemy wouldn’t look for them too thoroughly. 

Jasper opened his mouth, and Call saw the gears turning in his head. Call couldn’t risk Jasper being an idiot and revealing them to the Enemy, so he slapped a hand over Jasper’s mouth, and gave him a pointed scowl. Jasper scowled back. Call sensed Havoc run out of the alley and heard the other two wolves follow him. 

It was Call and Jasper against the Enemy. 

“Where’d you- ugh!” 

The dumpster they were hiding by gave a loud clang, and Call had to assume the Enemy had kicked it. This guy had a temper. 

“How’d they get away so quickly?” The Enemy muttered, and Call’s breathing hitched. His danger sense was essentially screaming, but that wasn’t much help. 

The alley was still, for only a moment. 

Then the Enemy turned on their heel and walked after the monsters. 

Call got his hand off Jasper’s face and wiped it on his pants, then told Havoc that the Enemy was coming and he needed to lose the tail (haha, get it, cause they’re wolves). 

Jasper was staring at Call like he was a madman. Call sighed.

“Is something wrong?” He asked tiredly. Now that the danger was gone, the energy flew from Call’s body and all his muscles went back to their persistent mission of making Call’s life as painful as possible. 

“I didn’t expect you of all people to pull a rescue like that, especially for me,” Jasper said. 

“It’s my-” job. The rest of that sentence was job. However, it suddenly occured to Call that he wasn’t in costume. 

Oh no.

“Why aren’t you in school?” Jasper asked. He looked dangerously calculating. This was not good, nope, not good whatsoever.

“I skipped,” Call said evenly. 

“No, you didn’t,” Jasper responded, glaring at Call again. “That was a bit too convenient.” 

Call’s danger sense was bleeping a bit, but he didn’t know if that was because of Jasper or because of Havoc. Either way, it didn’t bode well. Call stood up, brushing invisible dust off his clothes and looking into the distance to avoid Jasper’s scrutinizing. 

“I have to be in science,” Call said dismissively. He did have to be in science. It was their last day to work on a project for a summative grade. Call started to walk out of the alley, leaving Jasper behind, and with full plans to save Havoc, when-

“Second block doesn’t end for another 50 minutes, Radar.”

Cold fear shot through Call. He didn’t like the tone in Jasper’s voice. 

“As if,” Call said mockingly. His heart was racing. 

“Don’t try to play this off, you  _ have _ to be Radar. How else would you find me in an alley all the way across town when I was in danger? Who else has a giant dog that helps him take out bad guys? And, let’s face it, you’re a bit of a coward. You wouldn’t have been able to do that if you hadn’t faced this situation before.”

Jasper stood up and strolled towards Call, and everything about his manner (and his voice) seemed smug. Call scowled. 

“That’s not proof,” he tried. Jasper was standing in front of Call now, and Call once again cursed the fact that he had to look up at everyone. Jasper had an eyebrow raised and a dumb smirk, and coupled with the small cut on his face he looked pretty… cool. And Intimidating. Call hated everything about this situation.  

“Gotcha,” Jasper said, and Call huffed. That’s when Havoc came running up. 

_ I managed to lose them. What’s going on? Shouldn’t you be heading back to school? _

Call absentmindedly patted Havoc’s head, but he never broke eye contact with Jasper. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell,” Jasper said teasingly, still with that smirk. “Probably.” 

_ You’re not in costume and we’re both idiots,  _ Havoc said flatly. 

_ That about sums it up, yeah,  _ Call responded. 

“You’d better not,” Call said darkly, hoping that he had some presence, seeing as he was a crime fighting superhero. Havoc gave a little growl to emphasize the point. This is why they were good partners. 

Call saw some flicker of fear in Jasper’s expression, but he only scoffed at the two. It was good enough for Call. 

Call pushed past Jasper and started walking back to school, Havoc trotting at his side. Jasper’s footsteps went off in a direction that was definitely not to school. 

Call would ask, but it wasn’t any of his business. 

\--

As soon as Call got home, he threw his backpack off and collapsed on the nearest vaguely comfortable piece of furniture. Havoc stampeded down the stairs and jumped on Call, which, not gonna lie, was pretty painful.

_ You’re acting like you didn’t just see me,  _ Call said while petting Havoc. Havoc licked his face. 

_ I’m sorry that I’m happy to see you home from the Torture Chamber and that we get to hang out for the next few hours,  _ Havoc responded, wagging his tail. 

_ What’s got you in such a good mood? _ Call asked. He didn’t know that he was smiling fondly, but he was smiling fondly. 

_ I don’t know,  _ Havoc responded, curling up on Call. This was a bit awkward, seeing as Havoc was humongous.  _ It’s just that the Enemy doesn’t seem like as big of a threat after we survived today’s encounter, and now whatever fear or foreboding we had before is lesser or nonexistent.  _ Havoc yawned.  _ It’s pleasant. That and my favorite show is on. Can you turn on the TV? _

Call laughed and scruffed up the fur on Havoc’s head, then turned on the TV. 

While the two contentedly watched Havoc’s reality show, Call thought about what Havoc had said. Call guessed Havoc was right. He felt a lot less scared. Hey, maybe things weren’t as bad as they both had made them out to be. And if Havoc thought this was reason enough to stop being cynical and sarcastic for a while so they could just happily watch TV, then they might as well. 

Call found himself laughing at some of the poor humor, Havoc got strangely worked up about the contestants, and it was a really nice afternoon.

Call was absentmindedly patting Havoc when the screen fizzed, went black, and an entirely different image popped up. Call froze in shock. The figure on screen was all too familiar. 

“Hello. My name is Constantine, but you would do well to refer to me as The Enemy Of Death. I have an announcement to make.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's really convenient that not having belt loops is the latest fashion amongst criminals and wrongdoers ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Also. Real quick. You guys. You're the coolest. Ever. I have read every comment at least 10 times at this point and I still can't help but smile at all of them, thanks a million, I mean that genuinely. If you left a comment, that message is for you- thankyouthankyouthankyou.
> 
> I like this chapter a lot, but also hate it, so uhhhh enjoy (and hey, it only took two months, are you proud of me)

_Target locked and located,_ Havoc said. _They’re over here._

Call could hear him concentrating a whole roof away. Tracking people down, especially when they’re on the move, is a lot harder than it looks on TV. Sheesh. The last thing Call’d heard from the TV had hit him hard enough that it was still noisily rattling around in his head.

 

**_“Hello. My name is Constantine, but you would do well to refer to me as The Enemy Of Death. I have an announcement to make._ **

**_You see this glass vial? No, it’s not a virus that’ll make you all sick, you see, that’s already been released on the city. This? This is the antidote. Don’t bother trying to recreate it, I can promise you won’t be able to. This vial holds the only thing that can stop the virus. And if the virus isn’t stopped? It’ll just keep getting stronger. It never stops._ **

**_Yes, it is fatal, to answer your question. Not to mention more contagious than I care to express._ **

**_Now, the reason for all this fuss is quite simple. We want the city. Hand over the mayor, and we hand over the antidote. Remain pigheaded, and watch your brothers and neighbors fall victim to our plague._ **

**_Your choice, Magista.”_ **

 

As much as Call didn’t want to admit it, the city was in crisis. At this point, they could mark Constantine as a supervillain. Which meant Magista needed its superheroes.

All three of them.

Four if you count Havoc.

So Call, albeit slowly, made his way over the rooftops. This sounds a lot cooler than it really was, as he was mostly just climbing flimsy ladders and making jumps that had his heart leaping, even if they were only two feet. Havoc, on the other hand, was having the time of his life with this.

Why would anyone think it’s reasonable to travel by rooftop?

Eventually, after much sniffing and jumping, Call and Havoc found themselves standing on top of a bakery at sunset, staring down Magista’s resident superheroes: Convict and Caped Justice.

Call couldn’t think of lamer names if he tried.

“Identify yourself,” Caped Justice stated. Looking back, Call didn’t know how he didn’t immediately recognize Caped Justice at the bank. He’s got signature dumb blond hair, not to mention a blue mask and cape. Hence the name. He was kind of the face of the city, and Call was pretty sure Caped Justice had a billboard somewhere. He was literally their poster boy.

At least he fought crime well.

“I’m Radar,” Call answered evenly, putting a hand on Havoc’s scruff. Nobody really remembered Radar for his face, partially cause he had it hidden behind a mask as well, but people found it hard to forget the giant wolf that ran around with him.

Call was acutely aware of the reputation he had built for himself in the city, and quite frankly, he was proud of it. Unlike Caped Justice and Convict, his costume was just a gray sweatshirt with faded black letters and a mask. Apparently, when people can’t see your entire face, they find it way harder to recognize you. It’s worked so far. The only person that knew his identity was Jasper.

Call was trying not to think about that.

Radar was known for being just as scruffy as his wolf, not only in appearance (his hair was a mess), but also when it came to communication. He never talked, never got a partner, and was always gruff when people approached him.

That’s the thing- Radar was gruff, sarcastic, vaguely uncaring, and only worked at night. However, most importantly to Call, the people knew him as dependable. Equipped with his danger sense, if there was crime in the city, Radar could show up to stop it (or, when Radar was busy, his dog could). The city trusted Radar. Even if he didn’t exchange words with people after he saved them, he always saved them in the first place.

It was a pretty sweet deal.

“I’m assuming you’re here because of the broadcast,” Convict noted briskly. She was the star of the city, right along with Caped Justice. For good reason. She easily had the coolest superpower ever, and used it to mercilessly take down criminals. She could _control water_. She would break it out from pipes in the walls and turn it into mist, draw it from the air and make a whip, or freeze it around a criminal’s foot when they have the audacity to step in a puddle. The possibilities were endless, and she was genius enough to exploit all of them.

Her dumb name was based more on her costume than her power, and it took Call a sadly long amount of time to piece that together. Costume-wise, she had a cloak. It was dark blue, so dark that it looked black. The cloak was swishier than any item of clothing had a right to be. When the hood was down, you could see she had a black masquerade-style mask, much like Call. She looked like a convict.

“What else would I be here for?” Call asked, and Havoc snorted. Call knew he was laughing, but the other heroes tensed at the action, seemingly about to fight something.

“He only attacks criminals and his own tail, I doubt you’ve got much to worry about,” Call quipped, “although, Convict-”

“Yes, we all see the hilarious contradiction between my name and my profession, Sonar,” Convict retorted. Caped Justice gave her a Look that Call probably shouldn’t have picked up on, but definitely did.

 _Did you see that?_ He asked Havoc. Havoc flicked his right ear. Yes.

“It’s Radar,” Call felt the need to say.

“I’m well aware,” came the response.

This was why he always worked alone. Call sighed.

“The broadcast,” Caped Justice jumped in, “what about it?”

“Well uh, what are we going to do about it?” Call asked. Yeah, that was a great way to propose a partnership, real smooth, Call.

“ _We?_ ” Convict asked disdainfully.

“Yes, we,” Call responded easily, “the city needs its heroes, and that includes us.” Convict glanced at Havoc when Call said “us”. People usually found it weird that he treated animals like humans, but it wasn’t so weird when you remembered that Call could talk to even the tiniest spider.

“Are you proposing a partnership against this… Enemy of Death?” Caped Justice asked. He sounded painfully formal. Call’s brain felt like it was short circuiting.

“You betcha,” Call said. The only thing that stopped him from giving them fingerguns was Havoc sending him strong _do not give them fingerguns_ vibes.

The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, along with the warm smell wafting up from the bakery below them. There was some vague shouting in the distance, and the rumble of rush hour traffic. It was odd to remember that the world was still spinning outside of this square of roof. The world didn’t realize how crucial this square of roof was.

“Fine,” Convict stated, just like that. “Welcome to the team.”

Caped Justice was gaping at her, and Call had to laugh at how much their dynamic reminded him of his and Havoc’s. Call, too, had a tendency to make rash decisions without consulting the other, and Havoc also made a habit of communicating his exasperation freely.

“Welcome to the team,” Caped Justice said, incredulously and genuinely. Somehow he made the combination work.

 _I didn’t think it’d be that easy,_ Call thought to Havoc.

 _The worst is yet to come,_ Havoc reminded him, _you’ve still got the rest of this mess to sort out._

_Way to be a Debby Downer._

_I’m being a realist._

_Negative Nancy._

_Call._

_Sad Sally._

_Callum._

_Rude Wally._

_Those two don’t even alliterate, Call._

_Wacked-out Wally?_

_That’s… an improvement._

_See! Now you’re being positive!_

“...Are you having a mental conversation with your wolf?” Caped Justice asked.

“No, we’re just gazing meaningfully into each other’s eyes,” Call quipped. Out of the corner of his vision, he might’ve seen Convict snicker at the comment.

“As much as I’d love to continue this battle of wits, we have work to do,” Caped Justice remarked. Call, sadly, had to agree.

“Let’s just... go over everything we know so far,” Convict proposed. She walked to the edge of the roof and sat down on it, hanging her feet off the edge. Caped Justice followed her, so Call and Havoc did too. Sitting in a row on the roof of the bakery and looking out on Magista at sunset seemed very surreal to Call. He felt something, but who knows what it was. That great, overtaking feeling of something.

“That guy at the bank last night, he has to have something to do with it,” Convict started. “Nothing’s a coincidence in this business, and he was too close to the incident and too hard to beat.”

“I really think you’re over exaggerating his skill level,” Call said. The other two heroes gave him a Look. They seemed to be really good at that.

“I just ha-” Call tried.

“Let’s save that conversation for later,” Caped Justice cut him off, eyeing the darkening horizon. “What else do we know?”

 _Call, they don’t know about the Enemy’s wolf army,_ Havoc reminded him. _They weren’t in the alley last night. They also don’t know that the Enemy wants something with Jasper._

 _Let’s keep the whole Jasper encounter between us for now,_ Call responded quickly. _I don’t want them anywhere near him and his knowledge._

_Is it that big of a deal?_

_Yes, it is._

“After the bank thing last night, I ran into the Enemy of Death,” Call said suddenly into the pondering silence. Well, near silence. There was still shouting coming from the streets, not to mention the sirens and usual roll of engines.

The other two heroes were looking at him like he was a madman.

“Do tell,” Convict let out, and it dawned on Call that he had caught them off guard.

“It was in an alley, some ways away from the bank. He was leading an… an army of wolvish monsters. No, not like Havoc,” Call noted when he saw Convict’s eyes dart towards his best friend. “They were… vicious.” He half considered pulling down the collar of his sweatshirt so they could see the scratch marks littering his collarbone, but he didn’t want to scare them. “The wolves obeyed the Enemy mindlessly. He was definitely leading them into the city,” Call finished.

“Are you saying there’s an army of monster wolves stationed up somewhere in Magista?” Convict asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, yes.”

“What I’m worried about,” Caped Justice, who had been staring absently into the city, chimed in, “is the virus.”

Call took a moment to think about that. They knew nothing about the virus, only that it was a threat.

“If he could bully us with an army of monsters, why would he bother with a virus? Having two standalone offensive weapons makes no sense, unless the monsters are his defensive.”

“They’re not his defense, they’re his warriors,” Call noted, remembering the encounter with Jasper.

“There lies the problem,” Caped Justice replied, looking at Call now.

“There must be something special about that virus,” Convict said. The statement made Call freeze.

That was a terrifying prospect.

Just what had the Enemy released on the city?

In the darkened light, despite the growing shouts and jarring sirens, despite the sounds of Magista being loud and chaotic and panicked, there was a cold instant of silence, frozen by fear.

“We can’t do much with what we know right now,” Convict murmured. It thawed time’s frost.

“You’re right,” Caped Justice said, standing and wiping off invisible dust. “Let’s go home and think on what we know, then reconvene tomorrow, same time.”

“Same place?” Call asked, standing too. Convict and Havoc followed.

“You know it,” Caped Justice responded. He started walking towards a connecting roof.

Convict nodded at Call, then went after Caped Justice.

Call took a second to recollect his thoughts, when-

_DANGER DANGER DANGER DANGER DANGER DA_

Call’s instincts kicked in as he raced as fast as he could down the length of the roof, which was a lot slower than he would’ve liked, to the other heroes. He projected the feeling to Havoc, not having time for words. The danger was too immediate. Call was getting nausea from how hard and fast it had struck him.

Call launched himself at Convict and tackled her to the ground. Call’s head was ringing, either from the alarm or the fall.

“What the-” Convict was saying, fighting Call to try and roll away. He held fast. Havoc tackled Cape Justice up ahead.

Just as the two slammed into the concrete of the roof, something flew threw the air where they had been. It bit the wall of the high-rise building in front of them. A knife. Call, hearing footsteps behind them, instantly rolled off of Convict and held out a hand to haul her to her feet. She took it.

As soon as they were both standing, Call felt a stinging pain shoot through his left side, and he stumbled. He shouldn’t have pushed his leg like that. He shot his hand out to catch himself, and it landed on Havoc, who had run to his side.

 _You okay?_ Havoc asked. Call looked up, and forced focus. Convict and Caped Justice were both fighting… a blur. Call could barely see in the twilight.

_Answer me, Call._

_I’m fine,_ Call said insistently, willing his leg to stop throbbing. It was almost working.

 _You’re not fine,_ Havoc growled.

 _Doesn’t matter. We gotta help them._ Call tried to step forward. It almost worked. Havoc moved when Call did, though, and Call never stopped leaning on him.

 _You already helped them, and it’s how you got injured,_ Havoc pushed.

Call watched as Caped Justice took a fall, and while he was down, the attacker kicked him in the stomach. A wave of water came out of seemingly nowhere and hit the attacker like a freight train, but it only barely seemed to phase them. It was enough that Caped Justice could get up, though.

_Help doesn’t have limits, Havoc._

Call let go of the wolf and took a step forward, it was wobbly, and it was painful, but he could walk.

_Call!_

_Don’t worry about me._ Convict barely dodged the swipe of another blade, but couldn’t dodge the following punch. Caped Justice tried to knock the feet out from under the attacker, but only succeeded in kicking them and engaging them in another bout of hand-to-hand.

 _Worry about them,_ Call finished.

Havoc hesitated, growled, then bounded into the fight, all teeth and claws. Call watched him for a moment, then had to concentrate on breathing. His danger sense was manifesting itself in the wild beating of his heart now, which wasn’t helping the throbbing in his leg.

His alarm never stopped going off until he dealt with the source of it, so hopefully, it would all get worse and then it would get better, right?

Call took his painful steps, getting closer to the scuffle. The attacker threw Havoc off of their shoulder, pulled a complex wrestling move on Caped Justice that grounded him, then turned fully to fight Convict. The attacker had taken out the other two threats so they could face the serious threat, it seemed. Convict, even brandishing water around her like rings to a planet, couldn’t have much chance one on one against the guy that could take three on one.

Luckily, Call was still standing, directly behind the attacker at that.

_Primary objective- get the blade away from the attacker._

The blade was in their right hand, glinting ominously. Call was relieved to see there wasn’t blood on it.

 _See if there are any others on them,_ Havoc thought weakly to Call. Call did a sweep with his eyes.

 _One in their right boot, two more in their belt,_ Call thought back to Havoc. The attacker was saying something to Convict, staring her down, but Call couldn’t bother to listen.

 _What kind of person even_ **_has_ ** _that many knives?_ Havoc asked Call. He still wasn’t getting up.

 _The kind we should be concerned about,_ Call responded, putting pieces together in his head.

Quick as a whip, Call leaned down (thank God it was on his strong side) and pulled the knife out of the attacker’s boot. When the attacker reacted, swinging around knife-first, Call ducked under the swipe and cut their belt off. He threw the belt, knives still attached, behind him. Hopefully Havoc or Caped Justice caught it.

Just like that, the attacker had one knife, Call had one knife, and Convict was still standing. It concerned Call that Havoc and Caped Justice weren’t getting up, but he couldn’t worry about that now.

The attacker tossed the one knife they had from hand to hand. They grinned. Call still couldn’t see their entire face.

“See, this is your introduction to a criminal that doesn’t fool around,” the attacker said, smugly. Call recognized those words. They were his own.

“Oh, nice to see you again, how are the kids?” Call said to cover his own confusion and panic. There were too many pieces, too many knives, too many things.

“You thought I was in jail, didn’t you?” The attacker asked. “Well, surprise.” Call really didn’t like the look on the attacker’s face.

The attacker flipped the knife around in his left hand.

“Is robbing banks not enough for you anymore?” Call asked, holding a fighting stance. He leaned heavily on his right side, completely ready to spring where he needed to in order to avoid that knife. He knew better than to glance over the attacker’s shoulder at Convict to see what she was doing, but he could see her moving out of the corner of his eye. He wished he knew what she was up to, but it was getting hard to see anything in the darkening light.

“It’s not the money I’m after,” the attacker responded.

With that, he lunged forward, brandishing the knife.

Call, panicking, used the knife in his hand to block the attack. He braced for the cut he knew was coming. Surprisingly, the two knives met at the hilt, crossing like swords in a pirate movie. Call didn’t have time for rushing relief, since he could see the burning hate and intense concentration in the attacker’s stare.

Looking into his eyes in that moment, Call was completely sure that he was going to die.

The attacker smirked.

“The Enemy of Death sends his regards,” he murmured, so quiet only Call could hear. The attacker’s glance darted to Call’s left leg, and Call had enough sense to push the small advantage. He changed the position he was holding the knife in to throw off the attacker’s grip, dropped the knife, and surged forward, directly into the attacker’s gut. The attacker was pushed back, into Convict.

Convict used the fact that the attacker was helplessly falling to her advantage and wrenched the knife out of this hand, finally leaving him without a real weapon. Right before Call and the attacker hit the ground, Call heard a growl behind him.

Call and Havoc didn’t need mental communication, sometimes.

Havoc leapt, and Call immediately rolled away from the attacker. Havoc landed on the attacker’s chest, almost knocking the air out of him, and Call was already with Caped Justice and Convict. Caped Justice was still struggling to get up, and Call was worried. His danger sense was ringing, vaguely.

“Where are you hurt?” Call asked, managing to sound calm, somehow. Convict was oddly out of it.

“Shoulder, ribs,” Caped Justice grunted. Crap. That was significant. Call glanced over his shoulder to where Havoc and the attacker were facing down. Havoc was strongly on the defensive, but he was still standing. Whatever had been ailing him before didn’t seem to be much trouble now.

It was sudden when Convict reached to Caped Justice and grabbed his shoulder, then set it back in place. Call flinched, and expected a scream, but heard nothing. When he looked back, Convict was doing the same to Caped Justice’s ribs. Call looked on in wonder as Caped Justice took a deep breath, then stood like it was no problem. Convict had clicked back into reality.

“What?” Call exclaimed. How was that possible? What had just happened?

“Later,” Convict said shortly, and Call rounded his thoughts back. Right. They had to focus on the fight, now that everyone was on their feet.

The other two heroes started towards the attacker, but Call put out his hands and stopped them. They looked at him incredulously, but Call stared them down.

Havoc knew they were ready to go back in, and he would give them an opening. Better taking an opportunity than going without one. So Call waited. Havoc snarled, then leapt. Call didn’t see where, a black wolf at night was hard to see, and the sun was well past set.

The attacker doubled over. This was it. Call let the other two go. They ran to either side of the attacker and each seized an arm. Hard. The attacker fought, but with Havoc, invisible and fearsome, still on him, he didn’t have a chance. The two heroes tugged the attacker’s arms behind him.

Call walked up, and kicked the attacker square in the back, as hard as he could. It hurt his foot, but with Havoc tugging, the attacker hit the ground. Havoc sat on him. The second the attacker was secured, Call felt the energy drain from his body.

“Who do you work for?” Caped Justice asked sharply. It was a little bit terrifying.

The attacker said nothing.

“What do you want with us?” Caped Justice tried again, a little rougher. Havoc growled, and it was a nice touch.

“Who are you?” Caped Justice near-shouted. That one got a response. A laugh.

“Your worst nightmare,” the attacker rumbled. Call was tired of this guy. He walked around the ensemble, so that he was standing in front of the attacker, then crouched down. To Hell with his leg, at this point it just felt numb. Havoc, understanding Call’s intention, jumped off of the attacker’s back to stand behind Call. Call grabbed the attacker by the hair, and forced his head up.

“Got a name, worst nightmare?” Call asked, flashing a frightening smile. Havoc raised his hackles. In the city’s night lights, Call could only imagine the effect. The attacker’s eyes dilated behind his mask. The only sound was shouts and sirens, until the attacker spoke.

“Call me Lightning.”

Call was about to ask another question, but suddenly Lightning threw Caped Justice and Convict off. The moment Lightning was free, he moved towards Call, a fight written on every sinew of his posture. Call, crouching, couldn’t move fast enough to defend himself, and the other two heroes had just had a hard acquaintance with the ground.

Luckily, they had Havoc.

Havoc pounced, a dark threat in the night, and sank his teeth into Lightning’s leg. Lightning stumbled, severely. Havoc let go almost immediately, he never liked hurting people, but the damage was done.

Lightning was kneeling. The smell of blood permeated the air. Everybody froze, and it seemed the only sound was Lightning’s panting breath.

“This isn’t over,” he said suddenly, and before anyone could do anything, he ran to the lip of the roof and jumped. Call didn’t fail to see Lightning’s heavy limp. There was no way he could get home in that condition. 

 _We should follow him,_ Havoc thought hotly. He sounded a little frantic.

Call, sitting now, reached out and put a hand on Havoc’s scruffy flank.

Nobody said anything.

 _Thanks for that,_ Call thought gently to Havoc, for once not bothering to be sarcastic. If Lightning had caught Call on the ground like that, his ribs could’ve been broken. Speaking of-

“Caped Justice, how’re your ribs feeling? And your shoulder?” Call asked, jarringly breaking the silence. Caped Justice blinked a few times, looking like he was resorting his brain.

“They’re fine as they’ll ever be, thanks to Convict,” he responded. Call opened his mouth to ask, but Convict was a step ahead.

“I rework the bloodflow around the wound to numb it, set whatever needs to be set, then let the blood go and freeze some sweat to keep everything in place and numb. Caped Justice will either wait out the injury or go to a doctor with it, either way, it kept him going. I did it with your leg at the end there, when I noticed you hurt yourself in that initial tackle.” Convict sighed, dragging a hand down her face. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Thank you both for having my back there,” Call responded. They nodded at him. The four heroes sat silently then, facing each other. There didn’t seem to be anything to say, they were all too rattled and too tired. It was all they could do to breathe.

“Should we go after him?” Caped Justice asked wearily. Call sighed, looking in the direction Lightning disappeared in.

“Not tonight,” Call said, putting pieces together in his head. Lightning was definitely working with the Enemy. He probably had some wolves on hand. The wolves weren’t a concern, they’d be helping Lightning, not coming after the heroes. However, if the heroes followed Lightning, they’d be up against the strongest enemy they’ve faced, and at least two monster wolves. It was a fight the heroes wouldn’t win.

Convict stood. “Still think we were over exaggerating his skill level, Radar?” She asked. Call sucked in a breath, then stood.

“Wholeheartedly,” he responded, failing to be genuine. Convict snickered.

“Then you, sir, are in for a big surprise next time he pops up,” she said.

“I love surprises,” Call said sarcastically. A hand clapped down on his shoulder. Call jumped, whipping around and bringing his fists up.

It was Caped Justice.

“Surprise,” Caped Justice remarked smugly. Call punched Caped Justice lightly on the uninjured shoulder.

“I _just said_ I hated surprises, you jerk.”

Convict chuckled, and Caped Justice grinned lightly. Call found a smile growing on his face.

“Well, if we’re not following Lightning, I should be getting home,” Caped Justice said.

“Ditto,” Convict said. “Tomorrow?”

“Same time,” Caped Justice said, nodding.

“Same place,” Call finished. For the first time that night, there was a certain lightness between the three. Havoc wagged his tail.

They went their separate ways.

It was only once an aching and exhausted Call and Havoc had finally crept through the front door, purposefully avoided looking at the clock, and had fallen into bed, that Call wondered if anything had been done with the knives littering the bakery roof.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Love Updating Things At A Reasonable Pace It's My Favorite Thing. Anyway, huge music rec, Almost Like Praying by Lin Manuel-Miranda is the epitome of music. Also, freakign, hoedown throwdown just came on on my playlist, so THAT TOO I GUESS. Okay. Every kudos/comment has made my day, week, year, motivated me not to slam dunk this in a trash can, ily, thank you,
> 
> On another note, a humorous, charming one, you do not want to go to this school, geez louise. 
> 
> Alright, uh, enjoy?!

If Call had to choose between being locked in a room with either Aaron “self-righteous justice kid” Stewart, Jasper “shady twerphead that knows Call is Radar” deWinter, or the actual Enemy “supervillain with command over monster wolves” Of Death, Call would choose the Enemy with no hesitation.

Sadly, Call did not have this choice, and was instead stuck in an English classroom with none other than Aaron Stewart and Jasper deWinter. 

_ Fate is trying to kill one bird with two stones,  _ Call thought tiredly as he collapsed into his chair. Thankfully, Aaron sat at the far right of the room, and Jasper at the far left, and Call in the direct middle. It was the little things, sometimes. 

The bell rang, and the flurried students settled. Call lounged back in his chair and pretended he was aloof and cool, not exhausted and overwhelmed. Hopefully it was working. 

“Alright kids,” the teacher said, much too positive for the time of day. “I want you to write a story. Any story, about anything that isn’t idiotically inappropriate. I know you hear this all the time, but I’m begging you, be creative. Write outside your comfort zone. Make me laugh when I read these later, make me cry. You’ve got 45 minutes, starting now. Go!” 

Call huffed a breath and bent over to grab his notebook from his backpack. Once he sat back up, he was keenly aware of the fact that he’d forgotten to grab his pencil. This felt like a good metaphor for how he felt at any given moment in time anymore. 

Once Call retrieved a pencil, he stared at the blank paper on his desk, willing words to appear on it. His brain simply wasn’t functioning in the way that school needed it to. There were thoughts swirling around in his head, vague from exhaustion and scattered from stress. He had better things to be thinking about than a story for English class. Such as: what was special about the Enemy’s virus? What was the Enemy’s motive for releasing the virus on the city? What did the Enemy want with Jasper in the alley? Where was the Enemy keeping all these wolf monsters? Where did the Enemy  _ get  _ all these wolf monsters? How could they stop the virus, the monsters, and the Enemy? Where did Lightning fit in? He was working with the Enemy, Call could piece together that much, but why did he seem to be specifically seeking out the superheroes? 

Call found that he was staring at his paper uselessly, tapping his pencil against the desk and biting his lip as he thought. In theory, he had a story to get written. In reality, he had a city to save. 

The story could wait. 

The key to finding out the plans of and therefore defeating any sort of enemy was finding out their motives, wasn’t it? That seemed logical. Find out what the Enemy wants, piece together how he plans to get it, thwart him. That was a solid plan. Call could do that. Call could not write a story, but Call could do that. 

Well, for one thing, there was the Enemy at face value, the one with viruses and wolf armies that simply wanted control of the city. Call didn’t buy that. Power was  _ a  _ motivator sometimes, sure, but it was almost never  _ the  _ motivator. Call knew there were loose ends pointing to something more going down than anybody could figure. There was, as Caped Justice had reasoned, something special about that virus. There was Lightning, who seemed to be after the superheroes in some way. What did the Enemy want with the city’s superheroes? Did they pose a threat to him in some unknown way? 

Then there was the encounter with Jasper. The Enemy had been in an alleyway, intimidating a highschooler. What business did he have being in an alley, intimidating a highschooler? 

Maybe... Call could… ask Jasper…?

The idea took a second to form, but Call half planned to never talk to Jasper again, so he instantly balked at it. He looked up from his paper to glance at Jasper across the room. He wasn’t writing, instead talking quietly with Celia, who was sitting behind him. He was smirking, and Call didn’t like the look in his eye. Then again, when did Call ever like the look in his eye? Either way, he was probably up to something. He was always up to something. Why was he talking to Celia? Celia was the biggest gossip in school, if Jasper was telling her Call’s secret, then everybody would know before fourth block.  _ Fourth block.  _

Call felt his gaze become searing as he stared across the room at Jasper, thinking about all of the secrets he could be spilling. Call wanted Jasper to look up from his conversation, to see Call’s glare out of the corner of his eye, and to be so intimidated by the force of the glare alone that he never even thought of telling anyone about Call ever again.

_ Go on, look up, you slimy weasel,  _ Call thought, willing Jasper, with all his might, to move his head. 

When Jasper didn’t look away from Celia, Call gave up the ghost. He turned away from the two, putting the heels of his hands in his eyes and holding his head. He sighed. His brain slowed down from the manic pace of thought it’d been going at.

_ I can’t afford to overthink, or to get paranoid like that,  _ Call thought. He rubbed his eyes a little. He picked up his head and glanced at the clock, blinking to bring his sight into focus. It had been all of five minutes since class started. He was supposed to be writing. He was not writing. This was agonizing, and Call definitively has not gotten enough sleep in a month. 

Call felt an itching at the corner of his vision, something pulling his gaze, so he turned to see what had caught his subconscious attention. When he looked, though, all he found was rows of kids writing, or looking at their phones, or staring off into space. Behind them, a few colorful inspirational posters hung on the wall. Nothing that would catch his eye. 

His paper was still blank, so Call turned back to it, figuring he should start writing. Maybe he could write a story about a totally normal kid with a totally normal life, if only for a change of pace. Or he could write a story about a pianist that didn’t know how to play piano. Or he could write a story about a naked mole rat, just doing what naked mole rats do. Or he could write a story about a kid saving a city.

Speaking of. Call could find reasonable conclusions for everything the Enemy was doing, all of it fit together like sparse puzzle pieces in his brain. Sure, the puzzle wasn’t solved, but every piece was definitely part of the same puzzle and would fit together eventually, and Call could be confident in that. Except for one piece. One piece that didn’t quite fit with the rest of the puzzle, didn’t quite connect to the rest of the scene, in Call’s brain. 

_ Jasper deWinter. What does the Enemy want with you?  _

Focussing on his blank paper and thinking hard, Call almost didn’t notice when he felt that tingling at the edge of his vision again. He looked up, sharper this time, eyes searching more frantically. He was a superhero, he was pretty good at quickly and thoroughly analyzing a situation, he only had to utilize that skill in an English classroom as opposed to in the heat of the moment on a rooftop. 

Call was met with much the same sight as earlier, however, he’d caught a single detail that he wasn’t supposed to, and it made all the difference. He’d seen, for a millisecond of a millisecond, Aaron Stewart turn his head towards his paper. The kid looked as occupied as ever now, scribbling frantically, but Call had seen enough.

Aaron had been staring. 

Call looked away from Aaron and back to his own paper, and seconds later, he felt the tingling come back. He couldn’t tell from looking out of the corner of his eye, Stewart was being so subtle. Call gave it a few more seconds before looking up again, and since he was looking for it this time, he saw Stewart’s head very obviously turning away. Quickly, but not quickly enough. Call stared at Aaron, waiting for him to attempt his staring again so the two would make eye contact and Call could raise a smug yet condescending yet cocky yet threatening eyebrow. Aaron never looked up, though. 

Eventually, Call looked away, and he didn’t feel Aaron’s gaze for a while either. Stewart was good at what he did, it seemed, and it was getting under Call’s skin. 

The clock read ten minutes since the block had started. Call had nothing but questions and a blank sheet of paper. He huffed, and started writing a story about a castle that was alive and a person that wasn’t. He could almost concentrate, he could almost get his brain ticking past the speed of sleep deprived, but too much of it was occupied on the fact that he was going to have to talk to Jasper. 

\--

Call spent the first two minutes of study hall filling in random answers for the homework that was only graded for completion, and when that was done, he promptly took a nap on the desk. He needed it. Sadly, his blissful, dreaming paradise was catalyzed by the abrupt slamming shut of the classroom door. Call jerked awake, wiping a line of drool off his mouth and blinking himself awake. His brain felt minorly like it was made of snail glue. 

Call glanced around the classroom, and found a seat very obviously empty. A very specific seat. A very specific Jasper deWinter’s seat. 

Only Jasper would slam a classroom door shut. 

Call’s brain, for the first time that day, snapped to full alertness. What was Jasper up to?

Call pushed himself out of his seat and walked over to the teacher’s desk. He grabbed a bathroom pass and signed out, noting that Jasper’s name in the slot right above his own. Jasper  was, allegedly, also going to the bathroom. Call knew for a  _ fact  _ that Jasper had ditched English for five minutes to go to the bathroom not an hour previous, which meant this bladderic emergency was built on a foundation of utter lies.

Call didn’t slam the door of the classroom as he left. He looked left and right down the hallway, hoping for some glance of Jasper. When there was no sign of him in either direction, Call sighed a little and resorted to using his superpower. 

_ Hey, uh, has anybody seen any sign of a broody kid with a bad haircut?  _ Call mentally projected down both hallways. There were usually at least a few flies around the school. Flies couldn’t communicate all that well, but Call could get buzzes of vague feeling from them sometimes, and something was better than nothing. 

Speaking of, he got an itch of a confirmation coming from the left hallway, prompting him to send a quick, “ _ thank you” _ , and power walk down the corridor. 

Some movement caught the corner of Call’s eye when he was at the end of the hallway, so Call turned, and was just in time to see Jasper’s back disappear into the locker room. Call, not by his own volition, raised a single eyebrow. He questioned for a moment whether or not he should (or could) go in after Jasper, but Call realized that he didn't have a choice. Now that he knew that Jasper was definitely up to something, it was his… ahem…  _ duty… _

Call snickered.  _ Okay, okay, different word. _

Now that he knew Jasper was definitely up to something, and while Jasper still had answers to Call’s questions, it was Call’s  _ obligation _ to go see what good ol’ Jasper was up to. 

Call tried his best not to look suspicious as he walked up to the locker room door, even though the hallway was seemingly empty, and he probably only looked more suspicious now that he was trying, and he really ought to be better at this whole thing by now. When Call reached the door, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His brain was acting scrambled today. He needed it to be the opposite of scrambled. Put together, or something. 

The door didn’t creak as it opened, which would have added to the mood, but probably not in a good way. Call slipped through the door, and found the locker room empty. At first glance, at least. There were still the bathrooms to investigate. 

Call walked softly through the room, half expecting something to jump out at him. He wanted to pick up his fists in preparation for this seemingly inevitable fight, but he had to remember that this was not a horror video game and he would look like an idiot. 

In the bathroom, all of the stall doors were open and revealed the stalls to be empty. A single sink hadn’t been shut off properly and was systematically loosing drop after drop. Call, being the do-gooder he was, shut it off entirely. Protect the environment, kids. 

_ Maybe he flushed himself down the toilet like a dead fish and now he’s deep in the sewer system,  _ Call thought somberly as he looked into a (thankfully clean) toilet bowl.  _ Am I prepared to pull a full on Finding Nemo for Jasper deWinter? Spiritually turn myself into a middle aged clownfish? I’d get gray hairs. That’s it, we don’t need him.  _

Call left the stall in a huff, knowing somewhere inside him that Jasper didn’t flush himself down the toilet, but presently frustrated that he’d have to stage a Marlin-style rescue mission. Or presently frustrated that Jasper was this slippery and Call was essentially losing at hide and seek, when the hider didn’t even know he was hiding. Or presently frustrated that he had to interact with Jasper in the first place. Or presently frustrated with the situation in general. 

Mostly the Nemo thing, though. 

As Call was staring introspectively (note: furiously) at his reflection in the marred public school mirror, he caught sight something over his shoulder that he hadn’t seen before. Something key. Something life changing. 

There was a door in the bathroom. 

Call whipped around, and sure enough, there was a whole entire door, just, installed, right there, in the wall. 

“Well who put that there?!” Call asked nobody in particular, forgetting for a second that he was supposed to be subtle and would be in major trouble if he was found. The door had, in theory, been there, in the wall next to the stalls, for Call’s entire high school career. Call was more shocked by his own obliviousness than the mystery/discovery of an out-of-place door in the bathroom. 

_ At least Nemo’s out of the equation,  _ Call thought as he walked over to the door. It had a simple spin knob, which turned easily when Call tried it. Not locked. 

He opened the door slowly, and this one didn’t creak either. Call expected to need a moment for his eyes to adjust, and was half hoping to find an elaborate cave system, or an elite VIP lounge. He was instead met with near-blinding daylight, assorted dumpsters in assorted states, the accompanying smell, the silhouette of none other than Jasper deWinter, and  _ that  _ accompanying smell. 

Jasper was sitting on a closed (but well vandalized) dumpster, ramrod straight and tense. His gaze towards Call was owlish for a second, but when Call blinked it was all gone, and Jasper was the picture of lackadaisical. 

“What are you doing here? Is there a secret lair inside one of these dumpsters that you have to thwart?” Jasper jeered. Call stepped through the door, letting it close behind him. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Is this why you always smell so bad?” Call asked in lieu of a response. 

“What do you want?” Jasper asked, defensive. 

“What did the Enemy want with  _ you _ ?” Call demanded. 

“Nothing you can or can’t prove.” Jasper ran a hand through his hair, messing it up. 

“You do realize you’re incriminating yourself,” Call said. 

“Go back to class,” Jasper sneered. Call, for a moment, wished that he and Jasper could have one normal conversation, without vague or nonexistent answers. 

“The same one you’re supposed to be in?” Call snipped back. Jasper huffed, looking away from Call and into the middle distance. 

“I’ve got better things to be doing than sitting around in a classroom,” Jasper said. Call smirked.

“What, like sitting around in a literal trash heap?” He asked. Jasper scowled. 

“I’m surprised you have the guts to insult me,” Jasper said. Something between them shifted. 

“Are you-”

“Blackmailing you? Yeah, I am. Get off my back,  _ Radar _ , or I might let a few  _ things _ slip.” Jasper’s voice was biting, and taunting, and it tore into Call viciously. Call was tense, measuring his breathing, hands in his pockets clenched into fists as he glared at Jasper.

The problem was, Jasper wasn’t wrong. Even if Call had the superpowers, Jasper had the power in this situation. And that was  _ infuriating _ .

Jasper, the smug piece of trash, pushed up his sleeve and checked his watch. A second passed, Jasper tugged his sleeve back down and hopped off the dumpster. He turned away from Call, walking nonchalantly towards the employee parking lot. 

“Don’t even  _ think, _ ” Jasper said without turning around, “about following me.”

Jasper swung around the corner, and then he was out of sight. Call thought about following him, defiant as he was. There was probably a way he could do it without Jasper noticing.

But. 

Call obviously didn’t know anything about Jasper. The Enemy was after him, for one thing, and it seemed that he regularly left school without a pass to… do something. Something. Something that involved other people, if Call had to guess, since Jasper couldn’t drive and he’d walked to the parking lot. He was getting rides. 

As long as Call didn’t know everything about Jasper’s... situation, he couldn’t assume things about it, like whether or not he could trail Jasper without him knowing. It would only lead to disaster. There would be threats he didn’t account for, and that is a deathwish.

So Call turned around, tugged his hand out of his pocket, turned the doorknob, thanked whatever deity was listening when he found it unlocked, and walked back into the school. His brain was flooding with questions. He should’ve known that his plan to ‘just ask Jasper’ wouldn’t have worked out. It, quite honestly, only made things worse. Or… did he have more information now? Which meant he had more data, more to work with, more potentially question-answering details. 

Call was dragged out of his question-flooded stupor with the sound of a toilet flushing and a creaking door opening.

One of the stalls had been occupied. Some kid had a bladder and now Call had to deal with the consequences. He  _ really _ ought to be better at these sorts of things. 

Since fate was cruel, none other than Aaron Stewart was the one that walked out of the stall. Call immediately groaned in frustration, as was his reaction to making eye contact with Aaron at any time ever. He couldn’t help it. 

Aaron’s eyebrows shot up when he saw Call, and his mouth opened to start speaking, but Call swiftly decided that he couldn’t deal with this right now and pushed past Aaron, walking towards the locker room door. 

_ Catch you never _ , Call thought without much fanfare. 

He heard hasty water running, then fast footsteps, then Aaron was standing between Call and the door and his arms were crossed and his expression was stern and Call was already  _ completely _ over this. 

Call glared up at Aaron. Call still hated being that he was shorter than Aaron. What happened to Stewart Little?

“Move,” Call said simply.

“What are you doing here?”

“How is that any of your business?” Call knew he was being prickly, he couldn’t help it. Aaron’s expression darkened, only a little, but it was enough. Call officially couldn’t be here anymore, not if he wanted to leave uninjured and unsuspicious. Well, as unsuspicious as he could be at this point. 

Looking at Aaron, Call knew there was no chance of overpowering him. So Call had to surprise him. Call could do surprise.

Aaron opened his mouth to say something, again, but Call rolled his eyes up into his skull, swung his head, swayed on his feet, and let himself fall (to the right, because he wasn’t dumb enough to incapacitate himself). It was heartstopping, for a moment, as all trust falls were. Call braced himself for impact with the dirty concrete floor, but-

Aaron, predictably, stepped forward and caught him.

Call didn’t spare a moment, immediately blinking his eyes open. In the span of a millisecond, he took note of Aaron’s position (crouching over Call, cradling his head), and decided what to do before Aaron could react. Call grabbed Aaron’s shoulders and pulled him into a roll, dragging Aaron to the side and towards the ground. 

Aaron, surprised, didn’t have the chance to counter. His back hit the floor, a little hard, whoops, and the moment Aaron was down Call pushed to his feet and sped to the door. Once Call was out of the locker room, he glanced around the hallway, his eyes landing on the equipment room door. As quietly as he could, Call hurried over to the door and slid through, pulling it shut behind him. Then Call found himself standing in darkness amongst gym gear. 

It reeked. 

He heard the locker room door open, and footsteps. The footsteps paused, for a long amount of time. Call didn’t know where Aaron was. Call didn’t know what Aaron was thinking. He could only hold his breath and hope. 

Eventually, the footsteps stalked off down the hallway, presumably back to class. Call let out all the air he’d been holding in his lungs. He scrunched his eyes shut, shook his head a little, then took a deep breath. Okay. Okay. 

Call pushed the door open and walked into the hallway, shoving his hands in his pockets. He strolled back towards his study hall, trying to look for all the world like he hadn’t just gotten in a fight. He’d start whistling a jaunty tune if he weren’t in the middle of a school with classes going on. 

He made it back to study hall without an issue, quietly signed back in, and sat in his seat until the bell, following rabbit trails of questions through his own head. 

\--

Call regretted ever signing up for home ec. Why, oh why, did he think it would be an easy A? It was a mistake. His arms up to his elbows were covered in a bluish colored dough, and there was flour everywhere. Everywhere. He’d never escape the flour. 

The teacher looked at him disapprovingly, disdainfully, and Call wondered what would prompt somebody to be a home ec teacher. He was standing, arms held away from his body, and very still. He felt like if he moved, a cloud of flour would poof up and make even more of a mess.

“Go wash up,” the teacher said, sounding tired. Call left, not needing any more prompting. He shuffled to the closest bathroom and scrubbed the dough off his arms, then pat the flour off his jeans as best as he could, and took off his shirt to shake the flour out of it. When his shirt was back on, he knocked his feet against the wall to get the flour off of his shoes. Then he stared at the white powdery mess on the floor, feeling extremely sorry for the janitors. They needed a raise. And some chocolate. Call wanted to go up to the nearest janitor and hug them. As Call was leaving the bathroom, he glanced into the mirror, and did a double take. 

Right, his entire face and head was covered in flour. He’d forgotten. 

Call got a paper towel wet and wiped off his face as best he could, though it wasn’t perfect. Then he ruffled the flour out of his hair, shaking his entire head. Again, he couldn’t get all of it out, and it stood out starkly against his black hair. 

He was such a mess. He needed to stop doing this. 

Call looked in the mirror, sighed as he knew he couldn’t improve the disarray his person was in, then walked out of the bathroom. Par for the course. He’d had enough excitement for one school day. He was also going to meet up with Convict and Caped Justice later, which would only stir up more excitement, inevitably, so he was due to have more than enough excitement that day. He needed no more, thank you very much, he was just going to walk back to class and do everything a normal, non-crime-fighting student would do. 

“Fancy meeting you here, care to have a chat?” Aaron Stewart said, and Call just wanted to fall over and die. Instead, he stayed standing, and looked (up, still up, always up, why up) at Aaron, standing in front of him. That dark expression Aaron had had in the locker room was gone, replaced with the most passive aggressive smile Call had ever seen (which said a lot, knowing Call lived with Alastair). 

Aaron grabbed Call by the shoulders and led him back into the empty bathroom, and even though Call tried to dig his heels in, he found himself stumbling into the bathroom. Darn leg. Darn Aaron. 

Said darn Aaron stood in front of the door, again, and Call guessed if he tried falling again, Aaron wouldn’t be so quick to catch him. So, this conversation was bound to happen. Who knows, maybe Call could convince Aaron to get over the whole thing. Maybe. Call had to be charming, that’s all, he could do that. 

“How’s your back?” Call asked, trying for a friendly smile that ended up looking more like a snicker. Surprise flickered over Aaron’s face.

“It, uh, hurts actually,” he stuttered. 

_ Whoops,  _ Call thought. He really hadn’t meant to hurt Aaron. Aaron took a deep breath through his nose, then pinned Call with his gaze. The mood in the room changed. 

“Alright, Call, I’m tired of playing this game-”

“You’re the one playing it!  _ I’m _ not actively seeking  _ you _ out,” Call said, raising his hands defensively. Aaron rolled his eyes. 

“Allow me to rephrase. I’m tired of  _ your _ games. Especially the ones where you end up slamming me to the floor.” The glare that accompanied that statement burned through Call, so Call did what he did best and met Aaron’s glare with one of his own. Charming. 

“I don’t know what you want from me, Aaron-” Call started.

“I want answers! Why were you sneaking out of school during class time? What were you doing?” Aaron said, his voice steadily raising. 

“Oh, you got me, I was committing crimes,” Call said just as loudly, voice dripping sarcasm. “You’re such a hero, you’ve saved the city, hurrah hurrah.” 

“Well, there’s enough happening around the city right now that I have to be at least suspicious!” Aaron said. 

“Suspicious of what? Do you think I’m robbing banks during school hours?” Call half-shouted. He flinched in his head at that one, a bit too close to the mark on a recent crime there. “No, really. I might have even done a vandal. A whole entire vandal. I spray painted a dick on the side of an office building, call the police.” 

“Did you actually?” Aaron asked, dead serious. 

“No!” Call shouted, incredulous.

“Well-”

“You’re not the police, Aaron.” Aaron bristled at that. “I’m just skipping class, it’s not a big deal.” The lie felt sour and Call hated it, but at this point the Aaron thing had to be resolved so he could focus his energy on other things, like actually fighting crime and freely investigating leads. Not a dumb, suspicious high schooler. 

Aaron was quiet for a moment, looking at Call. Call looked right back. 

“You’re lying,” Aaron said simply. 

“And you’re full of yourself,” Call replied. Aaron sighed, sliding a hand down his face.

“Call, please,” 

“We’re not getting anywhere with this.”

“And  _ whose  _ fault is  _ that _ ?” Aaron shouted. 

“ _ Yours, _ for starting it in the  _ first place _ !” Call shouted back. That’s when the door behind Aaron tried to open, only to hit Aaron in the back, causing him to flinch. Call flinched a little too, out of empathy. He still felt bad for hurting Aaron. 

“ _ Occupied! _ ” Aaron shouted. 

“He’s holding me hostage!” Call shouted at the same time. Aaron glared at him for that one, but Call only grinned at him and shrugged innocently. He wasn’t trying to get Aaron in trouble, no, that would be preposterous. 

The door fell shut, and Aaron let out a long, frustrated breath.

Then the door slammed open with the force of a battering ram, hitting Aaron so hard (in the back, no less) that he fell forward. He stumbled into Call, who tried his best to stay balanced, but he had all of one functioning leg and steadying his own weight  _ combined  _ with the weight of a hurtling human being-

Let’s just say that both of them fell. Fell onto the dirty, flour covered bathroom floor. Call pushed himself up, looking to see who’d bulldozed through the door. 

“Would you two  _ shut up? _ If you’re going to have a fight, do it after school, not in the middle of the day in a  _ bathroom  _ of all places!” The girl standing in the doorway said. 

“Who’re-” Aaron started.

“My name is Tamara, nice to make your acquaintance. What was all that shouting about?”

“None of your business,” Call and Aaron said at the same time. Neither of them had stood up yet, both of them looking up at Tamara. Tamara was inside the bathroom now, the door closed behind her. She glared down at both of them, a single eyebrow raised.

“It became my business the second you became a disruption to me. From the sound of things, you two aren’t going to be able to work this out by yourselves. So, start talking.” 

Call bristled. He wasn’t telling either of them anything, and that was final. He couldn’t, without revealing his identity. Aaron wasn’t going to believe him no matter what he said, though. 

“He’s skipping school to do potentially criminal things,” Aaron said, suddenly, madly. He sat up fully, scrunching up his face a little. He was fuming, Call could see it.

“He’s skipping school to do potentially criminal things,” Call mocked, using a dumb voice. He sat up too, and when they were both sitting, Aaron wasn’t an inch taller than Call.  _ Take that, sucker. _

“Shut  _ up, _ ” Tamara bit at Call, and Call huffed. “What do you mean by potentially criminal?” She sounded extremely suspicious, and Call almost threw his hands in the air. Why was everybody suddenly so wary of him? 

_ Oh, wait, I know, it’s because there’s a  _ **_supervillain_ ** _ loose in Magista, of all things, I’d forgotten _ , Call thought to himself in his exasperation. 

“I  _ mean _ he won’t tell me what he’s up to and he’s surprisingly athletic, more so than one would expect from somebody that sits out of PE,” Aaron responded, pinning Call with another glare. Between Aaron and Tamara, Call felt thoroughly like he was under attack. 

“I won’t tell you what I’m up to because it’s not your business. I met you a day ago, dude,” Call responded, scowling. 

“You realize there’s a crisis in the city right now, correct? Suspicious activity needs to be investigated,” Tamara said. Call couldn’t believe he’d gotten stuck between the only two justice freaks in the school. Regular, normal, sane students wouldn’t care about a single ditcher. 

“What, are you going to search me? I don’t know how to prove to you that I’m not some Enemy of Doom,” Call huffed. Tamara, while keeping up her bravado, deflated the littlest bit. That was enough for Call. At this point, Tamara was the key to winning this continued argument. Call had to sway her. So he had to act like a clueless idiot, as though he had nothing to do with the city’s crisis. Call, luckily, was very good at acting like a clueless idiot. 

“I guess we can’t search you, but you could at least admit to what you were doing while school hours,” Tamara said, watching him closely. Between Aaron and Tamara, Call was stifled. He knew he wouldn’t get away with lying to them. 

“...I went to... the Pizza Plaza across town,” Call admitted. Well, he wasn’t lying, he could say it with utmost confidence. He could feel shock rolling from Aaron in waves. Tamara snorted, which made Call smirk. It  _ was  _ kind of funny. 

“And earlier today?” Aaron asked, incredulous. If people could be ruffled, Aaron was ruffled. 

“I was taking a dump,” Call said, shrugging, grinning. Yes, he made the pun on purpose, even though nobody there could appreciate it. Maybe he’d tell it to Havoc later. 

“You were definitely outside,” Aaron accused. Tamara hummed. Call sighed. 

“What can I say? There’s better cell signal outside of the school,” Call said. This wasn’t a lie either. There was definitely better signal outside. He hadn’t been using that to his advantage, but, the other two didn’t need to know that. 

“Oh my-” Aaron exclaimed.

“Are you kidding?” Tamara said.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Call responded, accentuating his statement with a gesture. When Tamara didn’t say anything, Call finally pushed himself up to a stand, brushing the flour from his clothes as best he could. Who invented flour anyway? It was a nightmare. 

Aaron started to follow suit, but scrunched up his face a bit when he started to push himself up. Right, his back was probably very bruised at this point. Call, still sorry about that in the first place, held out a hand to pull Aaron to his feet. Aaron looked surprised, but took the offer hesitantly. Call braced himself and helped Aaron up, which seemed to lessen the strain on Aaron’s back. Hopefully. 

_ This superhero habit of helping civilians is going to get me caught one of these days,  _ Call thought to himself when Aaron was still giving him the side eye. 

“You uh,” Call said in the awkward silence, “have a little something, uh, on your shirt.” Call didn’t know how to talk to Aaron when they weren’t attacking each other. And there was quite a bit of flour on his shirt. 

“I, uh,” Aaron said, looking at his shirt now. He halfheartedly tried brushing some of the flour off. 

“Does this mean the problem is resolved?” Tamara asked, after a second. Call and Aaron looked at her, then at each other.

“Yes,” Call said, optimistically.

“Maybe,” Aaron said at the same time, because he wasn’t a fool. 

“What do you mean  _ maybe _ ?” Call asked. He ran a hand through his hair in his exasperation, spawning a cloud of airborne flour. 

“I mean I’m taking you on your word, but I don’t know how reliable that is,” Aaron responded. 

“I think that’s the best we can ask for,” Tamara remarked. The door behind her creeped open. 

“ _ Occupied!”  _ They all shouted at the same time, and the door closed very quickly. 

“But-” Call started.

“No buts,” Tamara cut in.

“And-” Aaron started.

“No dumb remarks,” Tamara cut in. “We’re leaving it at this: Aaron, Call is innocent until proven guilty. Don’t try to prove him guilty with anymore shouting matches, got it?”

“But-” Call and Aaron said at the same time.

“But  _ nothing. _ We won’t reach a better solution than this until either Call  _ tells _ us he’s the Enemy of Death, or you can  _ prove _ he is, okay? His word is all we’ve got,” Tamara said. Call and Aaron sighed. She wasn’t wrong.

“So, do we have a deal?” Tamara asked. 

“Deal,” Aaron said.

“Mmph,” Call said.

“Call?” Tamara gave him a Look. Call had to cave. 

“Deal.” 

“Splendid,” Tamara said, smirking. 

“Can we all go back to class now?” Aaron asked. Immediately after he finished speaking, though, the fire alarm went off. 

Call covered his ears while the three of them exchanged a concerned look, and they all raced out of the bathroom. Kids were flooding through the hallways to the nearest exit, so Call, Aaron, and Tamara followed the flow. The ringing alarm hurt Call’s ears, and he winced as they passed one. 

“Go to your fourth block teacher!” the staff member holding open the door was shouting to the students. Call was confused, but then he remembered that it was near the end of the block when he’d left to go wash up. It would probably be fourth block by the time everybody got back inside. 

Call scanned the crowd for his fourth block teacher. He was lucky Mr. Rufus was tall and imposing, because that also meant he was easy to find in a crowd. Aaron and Tamara left to go find their teachers, and Call glanced around until he could see his. 

Mr. Rufus was standing on the far side of the sidewalk, directly in front of the doors, pretty hard to miss. Call trudged over, joining the congregation of fourth block history students around Mr. Rufus. To Call’s disdain, Jasper was present. Call wondered what time he’d gotten back to school. Call wondered what he’d done when he was gone. 

Now that the alarms were quieter and Call could actually hear himself think, he realized something critical. There was more than one set of alarms going off. His stomach was sinking and his heart was beating in a way that spelled danger. 

Suddenly Call’s brain was racing as he looked around, taking in the scene. Where was the danger? Was the school actually on fire, despite the lack of smoke? Well, he had an easy way to find out.

_ Havoc? Is there a fire going on anywhere in the city?  _ Havoc had long since learned how to identify the smell of smoke and burning. 

_ Like… a structure fire?  _ Havoc asked immediately. Relief washed through Call only from the sound of his voice. He needed to go home and rant to Havoc about the kind of day he’s had. After the current dilemma, of course. 

_ Exactly,  _ Call responded. Havoc took a second of radio silence.

_ No structure fires. Why?  _

_ The school’s fire alarm went off and I have a bad feeling about it. I’ll tell you everything later,  _ Call thought as he scanned the scene. What was off? What could lead him to the danger?

_ Don’t forget to punch with your knuckles,  _ Havoc thought. 

_ Of course, I’m not some amateur,  _ Call responded, and cut off communication. He took a deep breath, then looked around some more. What was wrong with the picture? Kids were on their phones. Teachers didn’t look particularly scared, but a little confused. The lunch ladies were playing basketball on the nearby court, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. Mr. Rufus was scowling, which also wasn’t-

Wait. 

That wasn’t his usual scowl. The slope of his eyebrow was off. He was staring at the attendance sheet, then shifting his eyes to his crowd of students, seeming to flick through them, then he turned back to his attendance sheet. 

Now that was interesting.

Call looked around. He didn’t know his class well enough to see who was missing, but it was something he could file away for later. 

Before long, the teachers started shouting, and the kids started migrating back into the school. One of the lunch ladies landed a slam dunk, and there was rampant cheering from a corner of students. From what Call could hear through all the murmuring noise, they were supposed to get their stuff and go to fourth block. Call got in and out of his home ec classroom as fast as he could to avoid the wrath of his teacher, then power walked through the crowded hallway to the nearby history class. He was one of the first people there. 

Call collapsed into his chair, causing a cloud of flour to poof up, which he did his best to pretend didn’t happen. The classroom was quiet, containing only three students at the moment. Call, as per usual, wasn’t talking to anyone, instead spinning a pencil as he sat quietly. One of the others was sitting on her phone. The last was, weirdly enough, talking to Ms. Rufus. Or, it looked like he was getting scolded by Mr. Rufus. The kid’s cheeks were red and his breathing was heavy as Mr. Rufus talked to him in a low voice, and Call wondered if this had to do with the attendance chart thing. 

It took some time, but everybody filed in and class started. Mr. Rufus introduced a project and assigned them groups. Call was partnered with Celia and some new kid named Drew. Celia came over to Call and said they could all meet up at her house to work on the project, and asked for his number so they could organize, which Call gave her without question. He’d gladly let her take responsibility if it meant he didn’t have to, for once. 

“Hey, did you hear about the fire ‘drill’?” Celia asked Call while he was putting his number into her phone, using air quotes around the word, “drill”. 

“I mean, I definitely heard the drill,” Call remarked, trying to remember the next digit of his own number. It was either a 9 or an 8, but he kept mixing his own up with his dad’s. 

“Well, apparently, some kid pulled the alarm,” Celia whispered. Call raised his eyebrows, typing an 8. That, that was suspicious activity right there. 

Celia thanked him once he’d put his number in her phone and walked across the classroom, presumably to find Drew. Call thought things over at his desk. Somebody was trying to get everybody out of the school. But who, and why? Those were always the questions, weren’t they. Who? Why? 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PhEW this is certainly a chapter. Imma be real with you guys. I straight monologued their speech in my room to make sure it was dramatic and also moving enough. Also I love this chapter, and I love literally all of you, thank you for existing, every kudos has made my life, every comment has made my eternity,
> 
> oh frick oh dang, things are starting to get real. 
> 
> enjoy!! (or else)

It was part of the oddity of Magista that there was a forest in the middle of the city. Well, not the middle, but it certainly wasn’t the fringe. 

Next to the high school, there was a massive park. It was the place every dog dreamed of, every biker cycled through, every photographer framed. The park was similar to the courtyard of a castle, Call had decided long ago, between the winding paths, cool fountains, and stylish benches. It seemed like the kind of place where the haughtiest of people got together to socialize and make themselves feel important. That, or, the kind of place that when everybody else got access to it, was a treasure trove of joy and activity. That’s what the park of Magista was. 

If anybody got itchy for life outside of the city, all they had to do was go to the park. It felt nearly independent from the rest of the city, despite being in the thick of it. Next to the concrete and brick, the trees were welcome, and the park was full to bursting with them. Trees were scant in some areas, nonexistent in others (these, “others,” were the fields. There were two in the entire park, and they were hotspots for sledders and romantics). The thickest concentration of trees, however, was on the edge of the park close to the school. It was the forest. 

Call trudged lengthwise down this forest every day, which eventually spilled him out onto the bustling road of the city again. Technically, he could get to and from school faster if he took the roads instead, since he couldn’t exactly skateboard through the forest, but he didn’t tell anyone that, and nobody bothered to ask. 

Call liked the forest, and that’s all there was to it. Maybe it was the privacy.

The terrain was dirty and dusty and covered in unpruned underbrush, but Call had long since learned how to navigate the rocks and fallen trees. He could do it pretty much without thinking now, which was all the better, because he needed as much time to think about the Enemy that he could get. It was definitely a predicament. The whole thing was a predicament. Everything was a mess of predicaments. Including the fire drill, apparently. 

At least the whole thing with Aaron had been resolved. That was one less predicament. 

A headache started in Call’s temples, and he brushed it aside as he took a wide step over a rock. It would fade, eventually. 

Jasper was Call’s primary concern. At this point, it was a definite fact that Jasper was in some way involved. If Jasper weren’t involved, he’d never have gotten tangled up with the Enemy’s wolves. That was a surefire sign of the Enemy wanting something with you, Call had gathered. So Jasper was involved. So Call had to find a way to deal with Jasper, of all people. 

The trees thinned out and Call walked out onto the sidewalk, which was bustling with a casual crowd. Nobody took notice of Call hopping on his skateboard and taking off down the walk. Call had to carefully maneuver through the throngs of people, head racing with thought and pounding with pain. 

Push. Lean left to avoid a stroller.

Why was the Enemy  _ threatening  _ Jasper?

Push. Push. Brace for the bump in the sidewalk. 

Was Jasper somehow a threat to the Enemy?

Push. Lean. Push.

If Jasper and the Enemy were on different sides, then, the enemy of your enemy is your friend. Why was Jasper running from Call, when he knew Call was Radar? 

Cut the corner. Avoid the cars. Push. 

Was Jasper in league with the Enemy? He couldn’t be. If he were, Call would be long dead, for his superhero status.

Push. Lean. Push.

Maybe Jasper and the Enemy were plotting something and Jasper wasn’t letting it on?

Cut. Brace. Push. Push.

Jasper was a lot of things. Jasper wasn’t evil. He couldn't be evil. He couldn’t be in cahoots with the Enemy. 

Push. Glide.

Was Jasper in cahoots with the Enemy?

Call’s rhythm stuttered when his head _ ache _ evolved to a head _ stabbingpains _ . A wave of nausea hit him like a bus, which is never good when on a skateboard. A teetering Call stepped off the board and went to lean against the nearest wall, at the mouth of an alley. He held his head in his hands, but somehow felt like his brain was swimming, and also on a rollercoaster. 

_ Are these the effects of the Enemy’s virus?  _ Call thought, distantly.  _ Am I sick? _

Call kept his breathing even, keeping his eyes closed and holding his head still. He almost found it weird that nobody was kindly holding his shoulder and calling him son and asking if he felt all right, as bypassing citizens were wont to do. He knew this was the lesser busy side of town and people were still at work, but still. 

With another pang of pain, Call decided he didn’t quite have brainpower to spare on thoughts like that. 

Having lost his sense of clarity in his swimming head, the sudden, distinct growl shot through his reverie like a bullet. Everything felt shocked for a moment, and then it all shattered, falling to pieces, leaving two absolute things in Call’s reeling mind: the growl, and a thought. 

_ It was my danger sense of course it was my danger sense I should have recognized my danger sense.  _

Call opened his eyes, finding the sidewalk empty of people. His brain wasn’t processing all too well, although he needed it to be. Two of the Enemy’s monster wolves were standing on the sidewalk ahead of him, crouching, staring, and most vividly, growling, growling, growling. 

It was his danger sense, the whole time is was his danger sense, and now that the danger was here, the alarms wore off. Call hadn’t recognized it, though, because it  _ never  _ comes on that strong. 

Call decided he had better things to be worrying about than his malfunctioning superpower when wolf number one took a step forward.

The wolves started running at Call, approaching with all of the inevitability and power of an ocean tide on a sandcastle, with substantially more claws. Call knew from Havoc that wolves could outrun his skateboard, so that option was out. His superpower wouldn't be much help either, all the animals in the area consisted of a few rabbits and mice. Havoc was a good four minute sprint away from Call at this point. Four minutes was too long. Four minutes was endlessly long. 

Before Call could even think through his panic, the wolves were on him.

Wolf number one leapt, and then number two, and Call immediately stepped to the side, losing his balance but getting out of range of the hounds. Call stumbled when the sidewalk he was standing on dipped into a curb that he had forgotten was there in his panic. He fell onto the street. He knew, distantly, that he needed a plan, but his brain was scrambling as much as he was as he pushed himself back to his feet.

The problem with fighting animals was their superior reflexes. The wolves had already hit the ground and were on him as soon as he was upright. 

Call barely thought before picking up his skateboard and swinging it as hard as he could at the closest wolf. While that gave the wolf pause, wolf number one leaped again, teeth bared, going for his throat. Call flinched away, scrunching his eyes shut and throwing up the board like a pathetic shield, as was human in the face of a wolf maw. 

The teeth didn’t come, though. There was a thud, and growling, and Call snapped his eyes open, his gaze shooting over the scene in front of him. 

The two wolves were in a heap, yipping and scrambling to untangle from each other, and Caped Justice. 

Frickin’ Caped Justice.

“Did you push-” Call started, shocked by the situation.

“The wolf out of the air and into the other one? Yeah,” Caped Justice responded, and Call honestly couldn’t believe this guy. Caped Justice was grinning like a maniac, fear glinting in his eyes like madness, standing braced to fight the still sprawled wolves, and panting. Call, despite himself, grinned a little too, fear leaving him at a loss to judge his own emotional reactions. 

“My hero,” Call said, and the irony of the statement wasn’t lost on him. 

Caped Justice looked like he was about to respond, but the wolves managed to get back on their feet, and suddenly it wasn’t time for conversation anymore. 

“Get out of here,” Caped Justice said, sliding into a defensive stance as the wolves crouched, snarling. 

_ Yeah, right,  _ Call thought.  _ Caped Justice can’t handle those things on his own. Admittedly, neither can I, but together, maybe we’ll get lucky. _

“Scram, dude!” Caped Justice tried when the wolves creeped one step closer, and both Call and Caped Justice took one step back. 

“You sure you can handle this on your own?” Call asked, trying to make his voice shake, trying to sound like a nervous-has-never-faced-danger-before-civilian. Wolf number one snapped its jaws, and it made Caped Justice jump a little. The wolves continued stalking forward. The boys continued falling back. 

“I’ll be fine,” Caped Justice said after a moment, and Call didn’t buy it for a second. He smirked.

“You hesitated.” 

“And  _ you  _ aren’t combat trained.”

“I’m better than nothing.” 

Caped Justice opened his mouth to respond to that, but wolf number two shot towards Caped Justice, teeth bared. Caped Justice promptly jumped out of it’s way, then dove into a tackle, shoving wolf two to the ground. The two started to wrestle.

That was all well and good, sure, but what Caped Justice didn’t see was wolf number one about to pounce on him. Call, instead of thinking things through, grabbed a stone off the ground and lobbed it at the wolf. Its head whipped around, razor gaze settling on Call, and fear tore through him.

Call was suddenly and inarguably faced with the truth that the two of them had no chance against the wolves. Whatever confidence he had previously had disappeared. 

Wolf number one sprang towards Call, and before he could react, his danger sense flared again in the form of another pounding headache. When the pain faded, leaving confusion and panic in its wake, Call found himself on his back, the wolf pinning him to the ground.

It bared its teeth, claws digging into his shoulders, and Call had never felt true fear until this moment. His arms wouldn’t be able to push the wolf off, so Call brought his right leg into his chest and kicked the wolf in the stomach as hard as he could. The wolf whimpered as it tilted off Call, curling in on its stomach a little. Call pushed himself up, wincing at the pain in his shoulder.

Caped Justice appeared at Call’s side, and for a second Call thought it was to try to convince him to leave again. Before either could speak a word, though, the two wolves stood shoulder to shoulder again, growling and backing Call and Caped Justice against a wall.

“Got any deus ex machina, superhero?” Call asked, mind reeling. Why had his danger sense flared? Why was his superpower acting so weird around the wolves? 

“It doesn’t work like that,” Caped Justice said, eyes darting around. “We have to run.”

“I can't exactly run, buddy,” Call said, gesturing to his leg. The headache was fading, though the stabbing pain in his shoulder wasn't. This wasn't looking good. 

Call wished Caped Justice would superhero them out of there, but he knew all too well that superheroes were only human, and Caped Justice was just as stuck as Call was right then.

“Then I guess we have to drive them off somehow,” Caped Justice said grimly.

“What scares off monster wolf dog things?” Call asked, maybe a little harshly due to his state of panic. He thought about Havoc while Caped Justice picked a few rocks off the ground and started throwing them at the wolves. Call thought about all of the ways that Havoc reacted to things as Caped Justice gave him a few rocks, and told him to aim for the eyes. 

Call threw the rocks, and he knew they wouldn't deter the wolves. They wouldn't deter Havoc. Really, the only time Havoc didn't act like a superior, fearless, distinguished creature was when he saw a squirrel.

Oh.  _ Oh. _

_ Any squirrels out there that want to tease a few wolves?  _ Call broadcasted to the animals in the area. He and Caped Justice were out of rocks. _ They won't catch you, but they're about to catch us. You know how it is. _

“Get behind me, Call,” Caped Justice said when the wolves took a taunting step forward. Call didn't move, he was concentrating on talking to the squirrels, so Caped Justice moved a little in front of him.

_ Been a while since you've asked me to risk my life for you,  _ came a response to Call. He recognized the voice. Ella, a squirrel that had a particular liking for peanut butter.

_ Not that long, surely,  _ Call responded.  _ We’re on the road off Renley. _

As Ella sent him assurance she was on her way, wolf number one jumped. Caped Justice pulled Call to the ground and they landed hard, but the wolf went over them, so that was a plus. 

Call pushed himself to his feet as soon as the wolf wasn’t in the air anymore, but Caped Justice was having a hard time getting up. Call could see pain written in his body language, so he grabbed Caped Justice’s arm and pulled.

Once they were standing, they were faced with the fact that they were now surrounded by the wolves. Call moved so he and Caped Justice were back to back. Ella was getting closer every second. They could hold out.

The wolf in Call’s line of sight darted forward, and Call stepped out of the way, pulling Caped Justice with him. The wolf backed back into the circling position, and Caped Justice breathed a thanks.

“Don't worry about it,” Call murmured back. His head pounded. His shoulder burned. The wolves growled.

A faint skittering noise on a nearby gutter caught Call’s dazed attention, and sure enough, like a shining ray of hope, Ella was perched on the gutter.

_ You have no idea how happy I am to see you,  _ Call thought to her, and her tail twitched twice, the squirrel version of a laugh.

_ I can get an idea from the picture here,  _ she remarked, and Call had to admit she had a point. He and Caped Justice must've looked like rotted corpses being circled by vultures. 

_ Lead them away from us?  _ Call asked. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as one of the wolves took a small step forward.

_ I don't know how to get their attention on me instead of you guys,  _ Ella said. Call felt a minor surge of panic. The wolves circled. He didn't know what to do.

_ Could you push their attention onto me?  _ Ella asked. Call thought it through. That sounded a bit out of the limits of his superpower, which was already acting up today.

_ I don't know… _

_ Try. Better than getting eaten alive.  _

Call mustered his courage, gathered his thoughts, and sent a tenuous broadcast to the wolf in front of him, wolf number one. It wasn't a thought so much as a feeling, the urge to look at the squirrel on the gutter. The problem with the plan, though, was that Call was only talking to the wolf. Call wasn't compelling it to do anything. The wolf could ignore whatever was being said, that was easy enough. 

Behind him, Caped Justice stiffened, then took a few steps to the side, dragging Call with him. A wolf darted past the point the two had been in. Call found himself breathless.

Caped Justice was saying something, but Call couldn't listen. He sent the urge to look at the squirrel to the wolves again, more forceful this time, putting assertion in the feeling. He shoved it at them, brute-forcing it into their minds. Their strangely blank minds, which felt like fog and mold. The thought, instead of bouncing away from their heads this time, sucked into them. 

The wolves paused, blinked, then looked at Ella on the gutter.

_ There you go!  _ She thought to a dazed Call.  _ I’ll lead them off. You owe me peanut butter cookies. _

With that, Ella scampered off, the wolves in close pursuit. Call, instead of relief, felt disgust and fear building in his stomach. He was  _ not  _ supposed to be able to mind control. That wasn’t supposed to be possible. He could telepathically communicate with animals, which was fine, but also meant he could telepathically communicate with humans. He’d tried it. And if he could telepathically control animals, that meant… that meant he could telepathically control humans. 

The ground felt like it was falling out beneath him. He couldn’t be like Patriarch. He couldn’t. He couldn’t. He couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t-

Caped Justice took a deep breath, snapping Call out of his spiraling thoughts. He blinked. Now was not the time to think about this. Preferably never was the time to think about it, but now was definitely not the time to think about it, so Call decided he wouldn’t think about it.

“You good?” Caped Justice eventually asked Call. Call’s head had stopped reeling and hurting as soon as the wolves left, and his shoulder hurt less every moment. The cut couldn’t have been that deep, anway. 

Call nodded, shaken.

“Peachy,” he said. “Just clawsome.”

It took Call a second to realize exactly what he’d said, and another second to reevaluate all of his life’s decisions. Caped Justice, meanwhile, started snickering. Caped Justice’s snickering made Call laugh a little, and when Call laughed, Caped Justice couldn't help himself. Caped Justice burst into laughter, the uproarious, wheezing kind, and Call honestly didn't think it had been that funny. Despite, Call laughed right along with Caped Justice, hard enough that he was grateful nobody was around right about then.

“That was the lamest thing I've ever heard,” Caped Justice gasped, and Call shoved him lightly.

“Then stop laughing!” Call said, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

“But the comedic timing,” Caped Justice said, wiping his mirthful eyes. 

“Dude, come on, there's no way you're crying right now, that was the worst joke I've ever told,” Call said, inspecting his face. Caped Justice definitely laughed so hard he’d cried. Man. This guy must be great during stand up acts.

“Then I’d love to hear the best joke you've ever told,” Caped Justice quipped. He glanced down the alley, looking at the sky. “Come on, let me walk you home in case there are more wolves on your tail.”

Call bristled at the thought of spending so much time with Caped Justice out of costume, he felt like he was exposing himself enough as it was. General civilians wouldn't hold their own in a fight like that. General civilians weren't this comfortable around superheroes. 

General civilians couldn't use mind control. Call’s stomach dropped to his feet and he shoved the thought out of his mind.

Caped Justice had a point though, Call didn't want to find himself alone if the wolves came back. He didn't even want to think about the implications of the wolves attacking him in the first place. He’d bring it up with Havoc.

Either way, when Caped Justice walked down the road, Call followed without protest. It would probably be fine. 

“Wait till I tell my dad that a stranger followed me home,” Call remarked as they strolled down the sidewalk. He picked up his skateboard as they passed it, lying dormant near a bench.

“Wait till I tell my dad that I followed a stranger home,” Caped Justice said, and the comment made Call snicker. 

\--

The Sun was setting and Call’s shoulder had stopped hurting by the time Caped Justice and Call made it to the Hunt house. Call stood on the front stairs, one hand resting on the doorknob as he looked at Caped Justice. They'd talked while walking, mostly about the annoying habits of teachers they had in common, and then about Havoc’s favorite reality show, turned out Caped Justice liked too. Call knew enough that he could hold an, apparently entertaining, conversation about it. Even standing there, Caped Justice glowing a little while he was backlit by the setting Sun, Call couldn't quite wipe a small grin off his face.

“See you around,” Caped Justice said, smiling at Call. Call took his hand off the doorknob to give Caped Justice fingerguns.

“Catch you later,” he said. Caped Justice huffed a laugh through his nose, held eye contact with Call maybe a second longer than he needed to, then turned on his heel and stalked off down the street.

Call dug his key out of his pocket and got through the door, relocking it behind him. He popped his head into the garage as he passed it, shouting a quick greeting to his dad. 

The Hunt family lived in a thin, three-story building. The bottom level was mostly occupied by Alastair’s garage, and it was where he ran his Auto Parts and Repair business out of. Alastair’s Auto Repair. The second and third levels were the residential floors, where Call, and his dad, but mostly Call, spent their time. 

A staircase later, Call found himself getting attacked by a wolf again, knocking him to the floor. 

_ You took longer than usual to get home,  _ Havoc informed Call from his position on Call’s chest. Call batted at Havoc until he jumped off and Call could sit up. As soon as Call was sitting, he mussed up the fur on Havoc’s back.

_ I had a day and a half. I swear, everyone’s out to get me. That Aaron kid? Everything really came to a head with him. Oh, and wait till I tell you about Jasper. _

_ That doesn’t explain why you’re home late,  _ Havoc thought, walking over to the couch. Call’s Radar sweatshirt and his mask were lying in a ball on it, and Call was vaguely touched that Havoc had the foresight to save him a trip up and down the stairs.

_ You’re not my dad,  _ Call thought as he trudged over to tug his costume on. Havoc growled. 

_ Alright, alright, I had a run in with some wolves and Caped Justice showed up to help me. We handled it, and he insisted on walking me home, so I couldn’t skateboard. Happy?  _ Call pulled the mask on, then grabbed some pen and paper to write his dad a note. 

_ Why didn’t you call me?  _ Havoc asked. 

_ You were too far away, and once Caped Justice showed up, you would have given away my identity in a heartbeat,  _ Call responded, signing the note -- Walking Havoc, might or might not be home before dark, feel free to eat dinner w/o me, Call. 

_ Someday we’re going to have a serious conversation about your unwillingness to ask for help,  _ Havoc told Call while Call put the note on the table. Call elected to ignore the comment. 

_ Do you know why the wolves attacked you?  _ Havoc asked after a moment.  _ Does the Enemy know who you are?  _

Call turned the prospects of the question over in his mind as he and Havoc walked down the stairs. One conclusion was that the wolves were just out and about and got attracted to Call, his superpower was obviously affected by them, so they were probably affected by his superpower. Another would be that the wolves attacked random citizens, but Call figured they’d probably know about it by now if that was what was happening. There was also the chance that the Enemy knew who Call was, through Jasper. Jasper. The predicament. 

_ It could be that Jasper is working with the Enemy and told him who I am,  _ Call thought to Havoc. He pulled his hood on and ducked his head as the two walked through the front door again, unlocked and relocked, and he looked like any city bumpkin walking his dog after school. 

_ Do you genuinely think Jasper is working with the Enemy? You have a danger sense for this sort of thing,  _ Havoc responded. Call wracked his brain. If Jasper associated with the Enemy, that would make him a threat, wouldn’t it? And his danger sense seemed to be mostly activated by nearby threats. So… Jasper would set off his danger sense if he was working with the Enemy, wouldn’t he?

_ Jasper hasn’t set off my danger sense,  _ Call thought, slowly and carefully to Havoc, thinking through the words as he said them.

_ Then we have nothing to worry about from him,  _ Havoc said.  _ The wolves must’ve been drawn to your superpower. _

Call hadn’t mentioned the way that his superpower reacted to the wolves to Havoc yet, but he wrote it off. 

_ Probably. I hope so. That option is the easiest to account for.  _

Call and Havoc strolled through the maze of streets for a while, letting the sun dip through the sky and the silence permeate. The bakery was about a five minute walk from the garage.

_ Did I hear you say Caped Justice insisted on walking you home?  _ Havoc asked, and there was something jolly in his tone that threw Call off.

_ Yeah, so if the wolves came back I would have backup,  _ Call said. Havoc’s ears twitched.

_ Right,  _ he said, and something in his dumb doggy expression or his slightly condescending tone tuned Call in on what he was implying. Suddenly his face started burning.

_ It’s not like that, _ Call said, and Havoc’s ears twitched again. He was laughing at Call.

_ You are very bad at lying to me,  _ Havoc said, and Call scruffed up the fur on Havoc’s head. 

_ I don’t even know him, stop seeing things that aren’t there,  _ Call said, pretending he wasn’t blushing to the tips of his ears. He needed to get that under control. It was ruining his image. 

_ Hormones do weird things in intense situations,  _ Havoc pushed. 

_ So do wolves, apparently.  _

_ You’re trying to change the subject. _

_ There’s not a subject to be changed. I don’t like him. _

Havoc huffed. They turned another corner, and the crowd didn’t look twice at the kid and his dog. 

_ Fine, fine, you don’t like him,  _ Havoc said,  _ I believe you. But does he like you? _

_ No! _

_ Are you sure? _

_ Yes! We have had maybe one and a half conversations.  _

_ So there’s not even potential? _

_ There’s not even potential. He does like that one reality show though. _

_ The one with the island? _

_ Mhm. _

_ Marry him.  _

While Call was still sputtering and Havoc was still laughing, the bakery came into view, and if Call squinted, he could see two figures sitting on top of it in the dimming sunlight. Call, not for the first time, wished he had the power to fly, before he and Havoc squeezed around to the back of the building. To Call’s (and his leg’s) grandiose trepidation, he and Havoc scaled the fire escape to the bakery roof.

Caped Justice shot Call a smile when he turned around, and Call had to calm his beating heart. He attributed it to climbing the fire escape. 

_ I don’t like him. I honestly don’t. Havoc is delusional. I don’t like him and he doesn’t like me.  _

Reassured by his thoughts, Call returned Caped Justice’s smile. Havoc was just eager, and weird. 

“Havoc says hi,” Call said as he sat on the lip of the roof, next to Convict. Havoc hadn’t said hi, but he transmitted his assent to Call, so nobody had to know. Convict glanced at Call, grinning. 

“Do you say hi too?” she asked. Caped Justice sat down on her other side, and Havoc sat next to Call. 

“Nah,” Call said. 

“Well, hi Havoc. Radar, you can go, we don’t need you,” Convict said, causing Caped Justice and Call to laugh, and Havoc to wag his tail. Below them, the bakery door opened and closed, the vague chime of the bell inside ringing somewhere in the backs of their ears. If there were sirens across the city, if there was the shift of unease in the air, they tried to ignore it. 

“It’s the hour of need,” Call responded, although he lacked the playful tone he’d had a second ago. “You sort of do.” 

There was a beat of silence.

“Did anybody see anything out of the ordinary since yesterday? Figure anything else out?” Convict asked.

“I had an encounter with some wolves today,” Caped Justice said, and Call felt his shoulder pound like a heartbeat. He’d forgotten to dress that. It had probably scabbed at that point.

“And I noted some odd behavior from students,” Call said, trying to keep the topic moving. Convict scratched the concrete of the roof with her pointer finger. She looked deep in thought.

“We need to consolidate all of the information we have,” she said. “It'll organize our thoughts better. It can't be just me that feels like there are too many loose ends.”

“We should make a conspiracy board,” Call suggested.

“Like, with red thread?” Caped Justice asked.

“Exactly.”

“Does anyone have red thread?” Convict asked.

“No, but I do have pen and paper,” Caped Justice said, and Call deflated. The idea was great while it lasted.

“Leave it to you to carry those things around,” Convict said while Caped Justice pulled a pocket notebook and a pen out of his jacket pocket.

“Hey, don't bash it when we’re about to save the world with it. This is precisely why I carry it around,” Caped Justice said. He passed the pen and the notebook to Convict, so both he and Call could look over Convict’s shoulder and see what she was writing.

“Okay,” Convict said, clicking the pen open and flipping to a blank page, “what do we know so far?”

“The Enemy of Death has an army of mind controlled monster wolves somewhere in the city,” Call started. Convict scribbled down the words as he said them. Her handwriting at its sloppiest still looked cleaner than Call’s at its neatest, so he figured it was good that she was writing.

“What else?”

“The Enemy wants control of the city via the mayor,” Caped Justice said, and Convict wrote it down.

“The-”

“He-”

Caped Justice and Call stumbled over their words, exchanging a glance.

“You first,” Caped Justice said, giving him a short grin as an apology. Call nodded.

“There’s something special about the virus, because it’s obsolete next to the monster wolves,” Call said. Convict nodded, circling it after she wrote it down. 

“I’ll circle things that don't have answers and we have to pursue further,” she explained, and both Call and Caped Justice nodded. 

“The Enemy has wolves patrolling the streets, or something like that,” Caped Justice said, and Call felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“When I was walking home from school today, I came across two wolves attacking a civilian,” Caped Justice said. 

_ Don't give any tells,  _ Havoc told Call.  _ You're looking a little stiff _ .

Call forced his muscles to relax, because Havoc was right, he should not be affected by this story. 

“We drove them off, he’s fine, but it's something to note,” Caped Justice finished. There was a half smile on his face, and he wouldn't quite look at Call or Convict. Convict’s mouth was set in a grim line as she wrote that one down.

“Is there any reason they would've attacked that civilian?” Convict asked. 

“I've also come across wolves attacking a civilian,” Call cut in. He didn't want that conversation to continue. “The Enemy was there too. Havoc managed to scare them off.”

Convict and Caped Justice were looking at Call like he’d told them the Earth was flat, and he had to admit it sounded a little extraordinary. A run in with the Enemy himself.

“Was the Enemy saying anything?” Convict asked, tapping the pen against the paper.

“He was threatening the kid, but their language was so vague that I didn't know what about,” Call said. Convict clicked her tongue and wrote it down.

“Enemy and wolves interacting with civilians for seemingly no reason, comma, threatening,” she said as she wrote. “What else?”

“The fire drill at school today was staged,” Call said.

“What?” Caped Justice asked.

“Yeah. My danger sense went off during the drill, and then I found out that somebody had pulled the fire alarm, so it's all suspicious activity,” Call said. 

“Why would the Enemy stage a fire drill?” Caped Justice asked while Convict wrote it down.

“To get the school empty,” Convict responded. “Who knows what he did after, but he got the school empty.”

They were quiet as Convict scribbled an arrow and a conclusion.

“Anything else?” She asked.

_ Lightning _ , Havoc said, and Call couldn't believe he forgot.

“Lightning is working with the Enemy,” Call said. Once again, Caped Justice and Convict looked at him like he'd said the moon was a giant egg, like he was spouting incredible nonsense.

“Care to elaborate on that?” Convict said. She tapped the pen against the notepad again, and the writing on the notepad was getting hard to see in the quickly dimming light.

“Last night, he told me the Enemy sends his regards,” Call said, “probably as an intimidation tactic. I don't think the Enemy actually sends his regards. But I have no doubt in my mind that they're working together.”

“Are you sure he wasn't just saying that?” Convict asked, and Caped Justice nodded behind her.

“He showed up in the city the same day he Enemy did,” Call said. “That's not a coincidence.”

Convict blew a long breath out through her nose and wrote Lightning down. 

“Do we know what Lightning’s deal is?” Caped Justice asked as Convict circled the name on the paper.

“Well, he's not after money, and he's attacked us twice,” Call said. That was about all he knew. Convict jotted it down.

“Is that it?” She asked. “Do we have any suspects?” 

“Jasper deWinter,” Call said immediately. “He's been acting suspiciously for the past few days. Like, really suspiciously.” Convict looked at Call for a bit, then wrote Jasper’s name down carefully under a SUSPECTS column.

“Ca-” Caped Justice said, but he cut himself off.

“What?” Convict asked, looking at Caped Justice. Caped Justice had a confused expression on his face.

“...no one, nevermind. He just got off my suspect list, actually.”

“Alright,” Convict said, flipping the notebook shut and clicking the pen closed. She handed them both back to Caped Justice and stood up, Call and Caped Justice following suit. The Sun was officially below the horizon, and it was quickly shifting to night time. 

“It feels too early to part ways, and we haven't really gotten anything done,” Caped Justice said, eyes moving over the horizon. 

“Unless anybody else has any ideas,” Convict started, continuing when Call, Caped Justice, and Havoc all shook their heads, “I say we should go to the TV studio.”

“Why?” Call asked. It was a reasonable question.

“Well,” Convict said, “the Enemy sent us a message. We ought to return the favor.”

\--

TV studio cameras looked like really elaborate robots that rich inventors would have sitting in their basement, covered in a moth eaten tarp and dust. Call wasn't expecting that, but he was faced with the reality as he stared one down.

Superhero privileges had gotten them into the studio with an opportunity to broadcast easily. It only took a few convincing words from Convict and a charming smile from Caped Justice. From the look in the receptionist’s eyes, he wasn't going to question Havoc’s presence inside the studio, and that was all the better.

On the way to the studio, the four had discussed what they planned for the future of the city, and they were all on the same terms. The Enemy was getting nothing, virus or not. Magista was not going to be browbeaten. They wanted the Enemy out of the city, and they weren't afraid of no virus. They'd work it out. But the city was taking a stand, and the four of them would be the heads of it.

They worked out a rough script, and Caped Justice called the mayor (of course he had the mayor’s phone number) to inform him of their plans. Mayor North agreed emphatically. 

“I would sooner die than give the city over,” Mayor North had said.

“That’s great!” Caped Justice responded, looking like he was drowning. The mayor had been droning on for at least seven minutes now, and Call and Convict were snickering in the background. 

“Die, you hear me? That scumbag will never get our city. I don't care about some virus.”

“No, really, I get it.”

Needless to say, everything was going according to plan. The TV studio was setting up a live broadcast for the superheroes, so they could rally the people of the city and let the Enemy know that he needed to hightail it out of there.

“Live in five,” an intern said, not looking up from a clipboard. The room was well lit and bustling with people of all types, the only ones standing still were Call, Convict, Caped Justice, and Havoc, who were fidgeting in the area in front of the cameras.

“So we all know what we’re going to say?” Caped Justice checked, and he was met with nods.

“Does anyone here have stage fright?” Convict asked, a little wickedly, a little nervously. Her eyes kept darting to the camera.

“I've never much enjoyed the spotlight,” Caped Justice admitted, and Call barked a laugh.

“You? Billboard boy?” he asked. Caped Justice cringed. 

“Mayor North insisted,” he said, and that time, Convict chuckled too. 

“Well, I get nervous in front of cameras, but not in front of crowds,” Convict said. It occurred to Call that that was a weird distinction, but he didn't say anything.

“I don't get particularly nervous about stuff like this,” Call said.

_ Don't do it,  _ Havoc chimed, somewhere in his head.

“My buddy here, on the other hand…”

_ Call I swear to- _

“Are you saying Havoc has stage fright?” Convict asked, and she sounded delighted. Call’s smug smile answered her question for her, and Caped Justice burst into laughter. Convict at least tried to keep from laughing about it.

_ You'd better lock your door when you sleep tonight,  _ Havoc said. He growled a little, and Call suddenly found it very hard to keep a straight face. 

_ You’ll get in anyway,  _ Call responded, ruffling Havoc’s fur. Havoc growled louder.

_ You know I will. _

Call laughed and gave Havoc a half-hug, standing up straight as the intern shouted.

“Live in one,” she said, and suddenly everything shifted to a different kind of desperation.

“Okay guys, we’ve got this,” Caped Justice said.

“Hell yeah we do, we’re literal superheroes,” Convict responded.

“Good luck high fives,” Call said, holding up his hands for high fives. To his surprise, the other two humored him, and they exchanged the highest of fives.

“I feel strangely prepared, now,” Caped Justice joked.

“Power of the high five, man,” Call said.

“Live in thirty,” the intern said. Everybody was getting in their places. Call put a reassuring hand on Havoc’s scruff.

“I feel like we need a team cheer or something, for before we do high stakes things like this,” Convict murmured, so only Caped Justice, Call, and Havoc would hear. Havoc barked. It was a quiet bark, but a bark nonetheless. 

“That’ll work,” Convict said, while Call and Caped Justice laughed.

“Five, four, three, two, live,” the intern said. The weight of the city’s eyes was beaming through the camera, and onto the superheroes. Caped Justice took a deep breath. Hatred of the spotlight or not, he  _ was _ the billboard boy.

“Good evening, Magista, sorry to interrupt,” he said, a brilliant smile lighting his face. “Radar, Convict, and I have a few things to say, if you're willing to hear.”

Call and Convict took that opportunity to wave, and Havoc wagged his tail. 

“So, you might have heard about a certain Enemy of Death. We certainly did. He proposed an ultimatum, demanding control of the city in exchange for crisis control. Still with me? Well, by all accounts, the Enemy of Death is a supervillain. So, we, as your super _ heroes _ , stand before you now to get some things cleared up. 

“You see, we’ve talked with Mayor North, and came to a unanimous agreement. The Enemy will not gain control of the city, by any means. The mayor will not be handed over. If the Enemy attempts to take over by force, he will be met with resistance. Our resistance.” 

“Our resistance,” Convict said, picking up after Caped Justice, “isn't just us, though. We’re nothing without you, all of you. We’re just three kids and a dog.” Havoc barked. Never let it be said he didn't have comedic timing.

“However, together, with your support, we are a force to be reckoned with. We have always been the center of history, but that is because we  _ change  _ history.  _ We _ do that.  _ You _ do that. We are not some helpless city to be taken over by a supervillain, we are a city of superheroes, and marchers, and fighters. Magista, tell me now, will you let yourself be walked all over by some Enemy of Death? Some random dude with an ego? Viruses have antidotes. And people have strength. Strength enough to hold out against an oppressor. Every day I see you, I walk among you, and I have seen more acts of strength and courage than I could tell. We are not a city of cowards.”

“I know that we won't stand to be bullied into submission,” Caped Justice said. “If anything, we’re going down swinging, but I somehow doubt we’ll go down at all. Together, Magista, we are powerful. And together, we will drive this supervillain out of our city!”

The people in the TV studio clapped and cheered, most likely because Caped Justice had said it with such conviction. Even Call felt a huge bubble of hope in his chest. These two were good.

But it was his turn.

“Oh, and, Constantine,” Call said, stepping forward. “Your name is Constantine, isn't it? We know you're watching. You may think we’re afraid of you, or that your little puppies scare us.”

At this, Havoc growled, and gosh Call loved his dog.

“But I have some news for you, buddy. You're gonna have to try harder than this if you want to take the city. Your pathetic attempts to establish power have only reinforced your obvious inability to beat us. If you think we're exaggerating, well, take the fact that we’re completely uninjured and telling you to your face that you're a coward as evidence. 

“Welcome to Magista, here’s your introduction to a city that doesn't fool around. If you want control of the city, you're going to have to go through us first,” Call finished, and behind him, he heard Convict cracking her knuckles as Havoc raised his hackles.

“So, Enemy of Death, shove off,” Convict said. 

“Or we’ll do it for you,” Caped Justice added. Havoc complimented the statement with a rather intimidating bark. It echoed through the studio, ringing with challenge.

“Magista will not fall under some bully,” Convict said, chin up, eyes burning. “We will stand.”

“We will fight,” Call said.

“We will win,” Caped Justice said.

A moment passed, then the cameras clicked off and the burning lights turned down. The assistants around the studio moved almost robotically, a dazed look in their eyes. They kept sneaking glances at the superheroes standing in a group. 

“I feel good about that,” Caped Justice said. Call felt himself nodding. The rush of delayed and dying down adrenaline and satisfaction was swimming through him, and even he had to admit that was an awesome speech.

_ You barked at all the right times,  _ he thought dazedly to Havoc as they left the studio, Caped Justice and Convict waving to people as they passed.

_ I always do,  _ Havoc responded.

Night had fallen by the time the heroes were back outside, and the city was oddly quiet. Or, quieter. As quiet as cities get. The taste of panic that had been in the air was diminished, somewhat. Call felt a renewed sense of hope, determination, and it was an odd thing to feel.

_ You're being quiet,  _ Havoc said to Call. The four were walking astride down the sidewalk, ignoring the sidelong glances they were being tossed. They weren't really talking. They weren't really going anywhere.

_ I feel weird. Good weird. Really good weird,  _ Call responded. Havoc’s tail started wagging.

_ You're not used to being this invested in something, are you _ ? Havoc asked.

_ Nope. _

_ You're not used to feeling this powerful and hopeful, are you?  _ Havoc asked.

_ Nope. _

_ You're not used to getting along this well with other people and having a sense of belonging, do you?  _

_ I don't have a sense of belonging with them! _

_ Yes you do. _

As adamantly as he denied it, Call realized Havoc was right. He got on unsettlingly well with Caped Justice and Convict. He wasn't used to people laughing at his jokes. He wasn't used to people joking back. Usually, people didn't bother talking to him, and vice versa.

At the realization, and the subsequent emotions, Call had a rush of impulse. As soon as the thought occurred to him, he acted on it, because he really just had to.

“I'm sorry for walking out on you guys,” Call said, all in one breath as they took a turn down a nearly empty sidewalk. The few night time strollers on the street passed without looking up from their phones, and one of them was definitely playing Pokémon Go. “After the bank robbery.”

Convict smiled a little, and Call felt his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't remember the last time he sincerely apologized. He couldn't remember the last time he emotionally put himself out there like this. He didn't know why he needed to, but he also knew exactly why he needed to and didn't want to admit it to himself.

For once, he wanted people to like him. It was a partnership he was open to, and he desperately didn’t want to mess it up, he didn’t want them to have the wrong impression of him.

“It's fine, everyone gets scared from time to time,” Caped Justice said.

“I’ll try not to hold it against you,” Convict said. Call blinked. He forgot they didn't know why he left.

“I wasn't scared, I had to deal with the Enemy’s wolves, across town,” Call said. “Danger sense. That why my name is Radar.”

Caped Justice looked considering.

“What’s this danger sense of yours anyway?” Convict asked. “You've mentioned it before. How does it work?” 

“I experience a physical reaction to nearby danger, or the potential of it,” Call explained. “The more imminent or dangerous the danger, the more extreme my reaction to it. Sometimes it feels like a sixth sense, where I just  _ know,  _ other times it manifests as stabbing headaches or nausea.”

“But I thought talking to animals was your superpower?” Caped Justice asked. 

Commercially, all of the superheroes had a well-known power. But that was only commercial. Convict could control water, but nobody put together that meant “in every form”. Caped Justice had x-ray vision, but nobody knew that he had supervision too, and could see for miles across horizons. Radar could talk to animals, but nobody knew about his danger sense. 

Apparently he could control animals too, but he  _ definitely was not  _ thinking about that. 

“It is,” Call said, “but I also have the danger sense. Two superpowers.”

“I didn't think that was possible,” Convict said.

“It's like that thing where people have two different colored eyes,” Call explained. 

_ Heterochromia, _ Havoc told him.

“Heterochromia,” Call revised. “Rare as all hell, but it happens. At least, I figure. I don't know many superhero scientists.”

Nobody knew any superhero scientists. Superpowers were a biological marvel, mostly because scientists had been working for ages and still didn’t know how they worked. Random, powerful abilities that defied the laws of physics. On top of that, they couldn’t perform many tests, because “superpower cells” didn’t work when they were outside of the hero, and modern scientific equipment couldn’t process what the cells were doing while they were still inside the body. The whole thing was a hopeless cause. Everybody just made theories and hoped.

“I have to admit that’s… kind of cool,” Convict said.

“So that's how you knew about Lightning last night? And why you walked out after the bank robbery?” Caped Justice asked.

“Yup. Danger sense. All of it. It's my radar.” 

“So that's how you always know where the crime is,” Convict said. Call could see the puzzle pieces clicking together in her brain.

“That, or I'm a really good guesser,” Call said. Convict and Caped Justice both snorted.

“Can I ask you guys a question?” Call asked after a moment. 

“Shoot,” Caped Justice said, stopping and leaning against a wall. Convict promptly sat down, leaning her back against the wall too. Havoc sat, but Call stayed uncomfortably standing.

“How did your partnership start? I can't remember a time when you two weren't fighting crime together. It’s always been “Caped Justice and Convict” splayed across the headlines,” Call said. Havoc’s tail stopped wagging absentmindedly.

_ Where are you going with this?  _ Havoc asked. Curious, not upset.

_ You know as well as I. _

_ I don't know anything. _

_ Exactly. _

Caped Justice leaned his head against the wall behind him, closing his eyes for a second. 

“You tell the story better,” he said, and Convict nodded. 

“I’ve known about my superpower from a young age,” she said, “but kept it hidden out of fear of the responsibility. I assume it was the same way for Caped Justice?” Convict looked at him for affirmation, and he gave a lousy thumbs up in response. She nodded. “Right. Besides, Magista already had superheroes taking care of things, so I figured I wouldn’t need to step on the scene. 

“However, after La Rinconada, well, there weren’t exactly any heroes left taking care of things. I couldn’t watch the city deteriorate into even more chaos and hopelessness than it was already in after the whole ordeal. I put on a costume to disguise my identity and waited for an incident call on my police radio. Don’t ask how I got it,” Convict glared at Call, who had opened his mouth to ask, so he promptly shut it.

“I left for the scene as soon as the call came in, ready to make my debut as a superhero. This guy,” she jabbed her thumb towards Caped Justice, “was already there. I guess we were on the same wavelength on wanting to get out of the house. I don’t know. Either way, we handled the incident as epically as possible, and when we finished, I stood and introduced myself to the gathered bystanders as Convict. There was cheering, and the kid we saved asked Caped Justice who he was. He told the world he was Caped Justice, and once the crowd cleared and the news had had enough of us, I proposed a partnership. I wasn’t necessarily going in looking for a partner, but I knew I didn’t want to do this all alone, and he and I obviously worked well together. The rest is history.”

“Happy coincidences,” Call said, and they both nodded.

“What about you?” Caped Justice asked. “Why have you never had a partner? What's your story?”

“I went stir crazy,” Call said, shrugging. “It's that simple. My danger sense was driving me insane and I barely even knew what it was. I left the house to find out, and you know, never really went back. As for partners, well, I have my partner right here,” Call said, placing a hand on Havoc’s head. Havoc’s tail wagged across the ground. “A lot of people just see him as a dog, but he’s my best friend, really. Even without the superpowers, he's just as much of a superhero as I am. So he's my partner.” Convict was smiling at the two of them, which Call took as a good sign, but Caped Justice was staring at Call in a bit of a weird way. That seemed like a very, very bad sign.

“I know it sounds crazy…” Call mumbled, but Caped Justice shook his head.

“It’s… it’s not that, just, something else you said… surprised me, that's all.” A small grin crawled onto Caped Justice’s face, but there was still something sparking in his eyes. While Call was busy trying to figure out what he’d said wrong, Convict spoke up.

“Would Havoc be okay if I pet him?” she asked.

“You can talk to him directly, he comprehends language as well as you do,” Call said. Convict immediately nodded.

“Hey, Havoc, would it be alright if I pet you?” she asked, holding eye contact with Havoc. Havoc tilted his head to the left and twitched his right ear.

“That's a yes,” Call said. Convict smiled and moved forward to scratch Havoc’s ears.

“Are you saying you and Havoc can communicate without talking?” Caped Justice asked.

“He uses body language to give off basic signs, it’s easy enough. You learn it after a while,” Call said. “All animals do it in some form. Squirrel tails twitch twice when they’re laughing.” Havoc’s tail started wagging when Convict hit the special spot behind his ear. 

“That’s really cool,” Convict said, smiling at Havoc. He barked lightly at her, doggy smiling. 

“Yeah, that is honestly really cool, Radar’s dog has better communication skills than he does,” Caped Justice said. 

Havoc’s ears started twitching, and Convict huffed a laugh. 

“Shut up, you,” Call said, pointing to Havoc.

“What’d he tell you?” Caped Justice asked, humor in his tone.

“He’s laughing at me. See his ears twitch? That’s how you know.”

“That is  _ so cool _ ,” Convict said. Caped Justice just smiled happily, eyes fond.

_ He’s flirting with you,  _ Havoc thought to Call. Call coughed.

_ That doesn’t make sense, he thinks Call and Radar are two different people,  _ Call responded. 

_ Nevertheless, I’ll leave you two alone,  _ Havoc said, taunting in his voice.

_ Havoc, don’t you dare.  _

Havoc stood up, ran down the sidewalk, looked back at Convict, and wagged his tail. 

_ Tell her to follow me,  _ Havoc said.  _ Trust me. You’ll steal his heart.  _

Call was doing no such thing anytime soon. 

“Does he want me to follow him?” Convict asked, starting to stand up. No no no. Call was not letting Havoc have this. Call was not going to be alone with Caped Justice. 

“Even better,” Call said, thinking fast, “he wants all of us to follow him.” 

_ Seriously, Call?  _ Havoc echoed in his psyche. Call ignored him.

“Where are we going?” Caped Justice asked, pushing off the wall.

“Uh, nowhere in particular,” Call said. 

“Then what-” 

The idea occurred to Call and he didn't stop to think. Why would four friends be chasing each other around a city at 11 at night? There was only one, blatantly obvious answer. 

“Tag! You’re it!” Call said, shoving Caped Justice and taking off down the street. His aching leg immediately started pinching. He’d pushed it enough for one day.

Caped Justice barked a laugh, then lunged at Convict. She twisted sharply and took off after Call, running past Havoc, who was hopping and barking happily, acting like any excited dog.

_ Coward,  _ he thought to Call.

_ You shouldn't be allowed to play tag, you have twice as many legs as the rest of us,  _ Call responded.

_ You're changing the subject. _

Call was about to respond when Caped Justice whacked him on the shoulder and kept running past him, jogging to catch up with Convict.

“You don't know what you’ve just unleashed!” Call shouted after him.

“Oh yeah?” Caped Justice responded.

“I'm so scared,” Convict said, smiling. The smile slowly slid off her face as she watched Havoc pad up beside Call. Call couldn't help it, he smirked watching the realization in their eyes.

_ You don't hate me enough to deny me this, do you?  _ Call asked Havoc.

_ I would be denying myself something, too _ , Havoc responded. Call laughed.

_ Give them hell,  _ he said, then placed his hand on Havoc’s head, effectively switching the “it” to the wolf.

Havoc gave a happy bark and darted towards Convict and Caped Justice, both of whom started running in opposite directions. Call stood, laughing, as Havoc chased the other two around the square.

It was a tried and true trick that they had developed from an early age. Call couldn't run, so Havoc would for him. They both enjoyed it, Call because he knew it was an infallible power move, and Havoc because he got to chase people without mercy. Win win.

“This isn't fair!” Convict shouted once Havoc slammed his shoulder into her and took off across the road. Call and Caped Justice were both wheezing from laughter. 

“We’ll see who’s laughing in a minute,” Convict said, then she started running towards Call. Call turned on his heel and started half jogging away from her. He couldn’t find it in himself to be upset, even. 

Call turned around at the shouting from behind him to see the aftermath of Caped Justice shoulder-checking Convict.

“Oops, I tripped,” he said, and winked at Call. Call and Convict laughed breathlessly, while Havoc jumped onto Caped Justice’s shoulders, knocking him to the ground. Havoc and Call both started across the street, Convict behind them. 

“Superheroes playing tag,” Convict breathed out while Caped Justice was still standing back up. “Who would have thought?” 

“Yeah,” Call agreed, smiling, and he knew it was his dopey, walls-down smile. Call, letting his walls down. “Who would have thought.”

“Tell you what,” Caped Justice shouted. “I’ll give you guys a five second head start. You’ll need it.”

“Radar, are you good at ice skating?” Convict asked in a rushed whisper.

“Five!”

“I’m good at skateboarding,” he responded.

“Four!”

“Good enough,” Convict said, smirking. 

“Three!” 

The ground beneath their feet, still damp from the rain early that morning, turned into a sheet of ice.

“Two!”

“Go go go!” Convict shouted, gliding down the road. Havoc skidded a little on the ice, and Call laughed at his unbalance. Call got a hang of the terrain quickly. Ice he could do. He slid down the road after Convict, whooping at the speed.

“One!” Caped Justice shouted, running after them.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohoho guess who has freetime now cause it's summer? not me but I'm TRyING. Also yeah, I know the fandom is p much dead at this point, but I'm sticking this thing out til the end, try me. I hope you enjoy the rest of the ride, but I also hope you enjoy specifically this portion of the ride. 
> 
> Thanks again for all the kudos and comments!! Every time I see another kudos I grow Stronger. Soon I will be Unstoppable (and you guys are the best tysm)
> 
> This chapter lacks in Tamara, and I am so, so sorry, but it has a lot more ~other stuff~ so maybe you can find it in your hearts to forgive me?
> 
> uh, enjoy!

Jasper, across the room, was fuming.

It was third block Science, and Call’s plan was finally starting to work. He’d decided he needed to find out what was going on with Jasper, cause it was obviously something, so he came up with a brilliant strategy. Persistence. Provoke Jasper until he broke. In hindsight, heck, even in wording, it sounds like just about the dumbest thing in the world. It frames Call to look like one of those kids bugging their dad in the car about if they’re there yet. However, anyone can admit, the dad in the situation always has a breaking point, and sometimes, when people break, they slip up. Jasper might spill. Jasper might do anything, but he also might spill, and that was exactly what Call needed.

It was working, too. After a full day of provocation, Jasper was showing cracks in his dignified foundation. Call bugged him and irked him beyond sanity in math class, chewing his gum loudly and never stopping in his tirade of questions. Jasper recycled the same deflection techniques, Call always, _always_ circled it back. Even he was surprised by how relentless he was being.

Eventually Mr. Lemuel sent them to the office for talking, which Jasper was enraged about. The secretary was busy with phone calls from panicked parents with sick children. The effect of the Enemy’s virus had really hit the city overnight, so everybody was home sick, including staff. The secretary was the only person in the office, the other workers supposedly also sick. When she saw Call and Jasper, she sighed and put down the phone, marking another x on a list full of x’s, which Call could only assume was an attendance record. It didn’t look too good. The secretary looked at them with tired eyes and asked if they were another case of talking in class. To their yes, she gave them a quick, customary lecture, then sent them back to class without bothering the principal.

As they were walking back to class, Jasper tried to slip away and leave school again, which was honestly a little ridiculous. Call was right there. Obviously he wasn’t going to let Jasper get away with that, which led to another long, intense bout of back and forth wordplay. In the end, a hall monitor came by and told them they had to go back to class, Jasper never got the opportunity to leave, and Call was definitely starting to get on his last nerve.

Math ended shortly after, and Call and Jasper didn’t see each other again until third block. Which was another opportunity to beat down Jasper’s patience.

Honestly, the whole plan was so focused around Jasper’s patience, as if nobody cared about Call’s patience anymore. Nobody understood how exhausted Call was, not only from bothering Jasper all day, but also from being around Jasper all day. This wasn’t easy work, annoying Jasper, but obviously somebody had to do it. For the good of the city.

Ms. Alma set up a lab for them to choose partners for and do after a small lecture. As soon as she said to pick partners, Call walked across the room to Jasper.

“Absolutely not, I already have a partner,” Jasper said when he saw Call.

“You aren’t exactly known for telling the truth, Jasper,” Call said. He glanced around for a second, and sure enough, Jasper definitely didn’t have a partner. About half the class was home with the virus, so there weren’t as many people to partner with. Everybody was essentially paired up already.

“He’s in the bathroom,” Jasper said, crossing his arms.

“Jasper! Call! Get to work!” Ms. Alma yelled at them from across the room. Jasper spluttered for a moment, but even he wasn’t dumb enough to think the “my partner’s in the bathroom” excuse would work on a teacher.

Call and Jasper grabbed the recording sheet and walked over to the last labspace that was open, the one by the door.

“I’m not telling you anything,” Jasper muttered, setting out the weights.

“That inherently puts you on the suspect list,” Call responded, switching on the light. “It’s a simple equation, Jasper, I thought you’d manage to do the math. Aren’t you supposed to be smart?”

“I’m not supposed to be anything,” Jasper growled, expression harsher than usual. “And I don’t care if I’m on your stupid suspect list. I know where my loyalties lie.”

“Are you insinuating that your loyalties lie against the Enemy? Cause you’re doing a pretty bad job of showing it.” Call poured some sand into a dish.

“My loyalties certainly don’t lie with you,” Jasper said. He honestly looked like he was about to snap the pencil in his hand.

“So they lie with the Enemy?”

“Sure! Just arrest me already!” Jasper’s voice raised dangerously, but Call didn’t need to glare at him to let him know he needed to quiet down, because an expression flicked across Jasper’s face and he twisted his mouth shut. It was enough.

“That response alone,” Call said, casually marking down another number, “is the reason I can’t arrest you. You aren’t telling me the full story. I don’t need you off the suspect list, I don’t need your loyalties, I need the information you know.”

“I won’t give it to you,” Jasper muttered, and the bite in his tone genuinely sent chills up Call’s arms. Yeah. Jasper was definitely reaching his breaking point.

“And why not?” Call asked.

“Why should I?” Jasper said immediately.

“Jasper, you are making this so much harder than it needs to be,” Call said, exasperation leaking into his voice.

“You’re the one that won’t let this drop!” Jasper said, voice raising again.

“Jasper, quiet do-“

“Get off my case, Hunt! I have nothing more to say to you,” Jasper said, shouting now. Their classmates started staring. Ms. Alma raised an eyebrow. Call didn’t notice any of it. All he saw was Jasper deWinter, standing in front of him, looking as maniacal as a desperate, ratty lion.

It was weird. Call had been banking on Jasper’s snapping point, but he’d completely written off that he had one of his own. And Jasper having the guts to look Call in the eye and yell at him? Over a situation that was Jasper’s own dumb fault? After a day of stubbornness and ungrounded pride?

Well, Call snapped.

“You have plenty more to say to me, you’re just too much of a petty coward to say it,” Call spat.

“Have you lowered yourself to name calling now?” Jasper asked, sneering. The air in the room was taut with tension, like a tightrope over a waterfall that was begging to snap.

“Do you seriously believe your taunting deflection tactic still works? I know you aren’t telling me something!”

“Alright, want to hear it? I’m two steps ahead of you in this game, and maybe you could have caught up by now if it weren’t for that bum leg of yours.”

Call’s ears started ringing. His comeback was stuck in his throat. He felt a pit in his stomach, a sheer, cold one. He hated that.

He hated that phrase and he hated Jasper and he hated that he couldn’t even stick up for himself and he hated that nobody else was going to and he hated the Enemy of Death and he hated his dumb stupid leg and he hated this class and he hated Jasper he hated Jasper he hated Jasper and he hated the words he wasn’t saying.

Call blinked a few times. He distantly registered loud, angry voices, which was odd. Ms. Alma never stepped in on fights, and the other kids in their class definitely didn’t have guts to. He didn’t think they all turned around and continued with the lab after Jasper and him hashed it out, but he supposed they might’ve. It wasn’t like anybody cared.

A hand pushed his shoulder gently, and Call stumbled in the direction he was being led. His head was spinning, although he didn’t want it to be. He didn’t know why this was getting to him so badly. Kids had said it enough in middle school, he thought he’d been desensitized.

Call was too lost in his own head to notice being led into an empty classroom, or the door closing behind him and the other person.

“You okay?” a kind voice asked, shaking Call out of his confused thoughts. Call blinked, tensing up when he realized he was in an empty room with a closed door and a stranger. It took him a second to recognize Tamara, the girl from the bathroom yesterday, looking at him warmly.

He didn’t necessarily know her very well, but he knew he could trust her. He knew she was reasonable, and well, she was already acting nicer than anyone else in his Science class. He’d forgotten they had Science together.

“I, yeah,” Call said. He was fine. He just needed a little break.

“I can’t believe he said that,” Tamara fumed, starting to pace. Call collapsed against a wall, sliding down until he was sitting. He watched Tamara pace.

“Nobody else seemed to care very much,” Call said. His brain was starting to cooperate again, he was coming up snarky.

“Then there’s no use wasting brainpower to worry about them,” Tamara said. She stopped pacing to face Call. “I’m serious, are you okay? Do you want to talk?”

Call blinked. He was rarely in the spotlight, especially from an emotional standpoint.

“I’m fine,” Call said. “Still reeling a little, and being hit by a strong wave of that emotion where I wish Jasper would fall in a pit.”

Tamara laughed humorlessly.

“Does the pit have spikes at the bottom?” she asked.

“Only dull ones, we’re not trying to kill him,” Call said.

“We’re not trying to kill him? Drat, what am I going to do with my time now that I’m not planning fatal revenge schemes?”

Call laughed, but the statement only confused him further.

“I thought you and Jasper were friends?” he said. Jasper and Tamara did hang out a lot, walking with each other in the hallways or chatting during freetime in the classes they had together. Now that Call thought about it, though, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the two together.

“We’ve known each other since we were two,” Tamara said, shrugging. “He’s been acting different lately, though, you could probably tell. I don’t think he would’ve said what he said three months ago. He feels like a stranger.”

There was a second of terrifying silence, heavy and tense, so Call scrambled to come up with a joke.

“Well, he’s certainly strange,” Call said. It was the best he could do. Tamara sighed, a smile darting across her face before it was gone. She sat down across from Call, and it struck him how odd of a picture it was. He barely knew her name. They’d had one conversation before. Yet here they were, sitting with each other on the floor.

“This sucks,” Call said.

“As much as anything else,” Tamara responded.

“It’s maddening,” Call said. He was through the phase of shock, and now he was just angry.

“I _know_ ,” Tamara immediately responded, the upset in her voice enough to make Call feel cold for a second. “He’s so wrapped up in himself that he completely forgets about other people.”

“Yeah!” Call said. Someone else who truly felt the brunt of Jasper’s jerkiness, finally. “It’s like, in acting like he’s so above everyone else, he loses all of the traits that would actually make him a better person.”

“Gosh, right? It’s so upsetting. Even coming from one of his closest friends, he is an absolute _dickwad_.”

“He needs to get over himself for two seconds and open his eyes to how the world actually works.”

“He needs to change this pretentious attitude of his. It’s like he’s a middle schooler, for crying out loud.”

“Exactly. He just doesn’t _listen._ ”

“He’s never listened! It’s just about the most infuriating thing in the world.”

“I’m over it. I’m so over his attitude,” Call said.

“I second that,” Tamara responded, slouching. She brushed her hair out of her face. The silence came back, but it wasn’t as heavy. It was like a cloud, drifting, light and understanding, between the two of them.

—

Call felt all right by the time he was walking into Latin class, a minute after the bell rang, as always. Where his chest had been heavy, where his blood had felt nervous, and where his limbs had felt tired before, he now felt more like himself. In control and energized, ready to take on whatever life was going to throw at him.

This new mood had everything to do with a baller pep talk Tamara had given him. Call didn’t know why he hadn’t tried to be friends with her yet. She was a delight, something he’d learned after they spent the rest of third block talking to each other (and hashing out motivational speeches) in that empty classroom.

It was fourth block now, though, so he slung off his backpack and sat in his usual spot, trying to ignore all of the empty seats, trying to forget the faces of the kids that were home sick. There weren’t assigned seats in this class, but everybody had the places where they exclusively sat. Once again, Call was lucky, and he was far away from both Jasper and Aaron.

He was mostly over Aaron. He figured it had all been taken care of in the bathroom yesterday, and didn’t particularly see a reason to deal with that kid ever again. They were in different social groups, they had beef, and, well, Call didn’t exactly know how to feel about him. He was nice, and smart, and kind of funny, but had also proved to be an annoyance. It was easier to cut him off than to sort through feelings, so there they were.

Jasper. Call felt like he could be over Jasper. Obviously Jasper had reached his breaking point, and it hadn’t quite achieved what Call had hoped it would. He wasn’t ready to forgive Jasper for what he said, and he didn’t figure he would ever have to be. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t, but it didn’t matter either way, because he was going to avoid Jasper as much as he could, for the rest of forever. There wasn’t much more Call could get out of him. Maybe he could pass the “get information out of Jasper” job onto Caped Justice or Convict when they met up later. He obviously wasn’t qualified for the position.

But Call was over it. It didn’t do to dwell on dickwads. So he sat down, finished with caring about Aaron and Jasper and their idiocy, ready to go on with his day as an unbothered person.

Aaron sat down next to Call.

The world was testing him today.

“Hey,” Aaron said, smiling. Call had literally fallen off buildings before, had been in car chases, had been knocked down a city block by an explosion, and yet this was the strongest feeling of whiplash he’d ever experienced.

Why was Aaron talking to him? Since when did Aaron smile at him? Was this some kind of trick? Why did a cat so adamantly have his tongue?

“I, uh, isn’t that Erin’s seat?” Call eventually forced out.

“She’s sitting over there today,” Aaron said, pointing over his shoulder. Call looked, and sure enough, Erin was sitting with a few kids at the back, all of them chatting amicably.

“But why are you sitting here?” Call asked. Aaron deflated a little, although his smile stayed on lock.

“I sort of wanted to,” Aaron said. He was hiding something, he was definitely hiding something, but Call didn’t know what.

“I sort of thought you hated me,” Call responded. Aaron shrugged, glancing away for a second before looking back at Call.

“Hate’s a strong word. I was frustrated. I’m willing to try a second chance, though, you’ve always seemed like a cool guy.” The teacher started writing something on the board, so Aaron turned away to start copying it down. He was still grinning though, subtle and bright, and Call was, for lack of a better word, flabbergasted.

Mr. Tolbert started lecturing, talking about endings and commands, so Call couldn’t respond to Aaron. Which was a good thing. He needed to think.

Call believed in second chances. He didn’t know why Aaron was pursuing one, which immediately made this suspicious. He didn’t even know if he liked Aaron as a person. He seemed alright enough, sure, but he was barely on Call’s radar before last Tuesday.

When it came down to it, Call was wondering if this was a scheme, and he was wondering if Aaron was even a person he wanted to be friends with. He was cool, and had a smile that could honestly melt hearts, but Call had him pinned as an annoying kid that he had to stop caring about. For some reason, he hesitated to take Aaron off that list. People rarely leave that list. People rarely pursue second chances with Call.

Which brought him to the possibility of a trick. Maybe Aaron was trying to get Call to fess up to something or another. If it was a trick, though, it was poorly planned and wasn’t going to get him anywhere anyway. Call wasn’t in the wrong. He was sneaking out of school because he had to save the city, sorry.

It occurred to Call that it didn’t matter if it was a trick or not, Aaron wouldn’t be able to find out anything incriminating. The worst crime Call had under his belt was heisting a pet store to save a naked mole rat. He was a superhero, for crying out loud.

A shred of paper slid onto Call’s desk, smoothly and quietly. Call blinked himself out of his thoughts to glance at Aaron with the corner of his eye. He hadn’t had him pegged as the note passing type. Maybe he’d had him pegged wrong the whole time.

Call glanced at the teacher, who was busy droning, and read the note.

_So, up for second chances?_

Of course he was the type to write out the word “second” instead of saying 2nd.

Earlier Call had felt confident and ready to beat anything life decided to hit him with. He wasn’t ready to give up that attitude yet, so he was still riding it. He hadn’t expected this, for sure, but he could roll with it. He was confident, he was sure of himself, and, well, what did he have to lose? Aaron did seem cool, even if he was annoying.

_I am if you are, bathroom boy._

Call slid the note back over to Aaron’s desk, not giving himself headspace to regret the decision. If life was gonna throw a friendship with Aaron at Call, then Call would catch it. Because why the hell not.

_Requirement A of second chances: no more calling me bathroom boy._

_Is flour boy any better?_

_Infinitesimally._

_Scratch that, I’m gonna start calling you pocket dictionary._

_And I’ll start calling you name tag._

_Great, we’ve got our aliases, ready to start saving the city anonymously?_

_I was thinking we could start a newspaper advice column._

_That sounds much more exciting._

Call slid the margin-filled paper back to Aaron, waiting until Mr. Tolbert wasn’t looking. Call would have to be careful. He had already written more this class than he had in the past three combined. Mr. Tolbert would be suspicious if he started acting like a good student and writing things down.

When it took an oddly long time for Aaron to write back, Call chanced a look at him. Aaron was staring at Call, a glint in his eye that Call didn’t recognize. When Call caught his gaze, Aaron didn’t look away, instead smiling sheepishly. Call raised an irritated eyebrow, then turned to write on the corner of the vocabulary worksheet they were referencing from.

_Do I have something on my face?_

Aaron skimmed the note, and Call could’ve sworn the tips of his ears were turning red. It was at that moment, though, that Mr. Tolbert finally stopped talking long enough to pay attention to what the class was doing.

“Callum? Could you answer question VI?” Mr. Tolbert asked. One would think, what, with Mr. Tolbert saying the Roman Numerals instead of the question numbers all year, that Call would learn how to use Roman Numerals. He never did. He was lost, searching the board for a question he wouldn’t know the answer to.

“Uh…” Call said.

“Change the -us ending to -ai,” Aaron muttered, so quiet Call couldn’t hear him, but loud enough that Call understood what he was saying.

“Change the -us ending to -ai,” Call said immediately. Mr. Tolbert hmphed and turned back to the board, writing down Call’s answer. Well, Aaron’s.

“Thank you,” Call sighed, slumping back in his seat, voice barely audible.

“Do you know this language at all?” Aaron asked, eyes never moving from the board, smiling slightly.

“Not even a little bit,” Call responded, and Aaron huffed a laugh through his nose. It should’ve annoyed Call, and if they weren’t trying the craziest second chance in the world, Call _would’ve_ been annoyed by it. Yet, Call didn’t find it very annoying. He found it something, but it wasn’t annoying.

Call glanced at Aaron again, and saw he hadn’t been wrong earlier. Aaron’s ears were red, just a little. Call turned back to his paper. It must’ve been cold in the classroom, or something.

\--

The usual bustle of students flocking towards the door after the last bell was oddly tame, the crowds thinner and the rowdy kids acting subdued. If Call were anybody else, he’d question the superheroes’ and his decision to refuse the Enemy’s deal and, effectively, the antidote. However, he was his stubborn self, and he wasn’t going to go back on their words any time soon. He distracted himself by focussing on staying on his skateboard.

He weaved easily through the thin crowd, gliding down the sidewalk that went away from the buses and towards the woods. He was already thinking about what he was going to talk about with Convict and Caped Justice later.

Further down the empty sidewalk, along the section that hugged the school, there was a figure leaning cooly against the wall, looking like something out of a movie. Call knew it was Caped Justice, not because he could see, but because that was just his style.

Sure enough, as Call got closer, it became increasingly evident that it was Caped Justice, being dramatic. Call felt a brief moment of fear and confusion, wondering why Caped Justice was interacting with him as a civilian, scared that Jasper might’ve leaked his identity or Caped Justice had found it out himself. As he rolled over to Caped Justice, though, and found himself on the other side of a greeting smile, he remembered the wolf fight yesterday, and the walk home after, and how bright his hair had been in the setting Sun, which was an odd detail to remember. Either way, Call’s identity was still safe, as far as he knew. Caped Justice had reason enough to be there. Well, almost.

“Did you run home, put on a cape, and run back to school just to meet up with me? All in under five minutes no less?” Call asked in lieu of a greeting. He didn’t step off his skateboard yet, waiting to see exactly what Caped Justice wanted. Said Caped Justice raised an amused eyebrow at Call, but Call didn’t see what was funny.

“I keep my costume in my backpack, man,” Caped Justice said, and Call blinked. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Why hadn’t he been doing that, all this time?

“Well, it’s obvious now that you say it,” Call said, and Caped Justice laughed. “Can I ask why you’re leaning dramatically in the shadows of my path?”

“Which one of us is the dramatic one?” Caped Justice asked.

“It’s a perfectly reasonable way to phrase a sentence, now answer my question,” Call said, and Caped Justice held up his hands in surrender.

“I didn’t want yesterday’s incident to repeat itself, so I thought it might be a good idea to walk you home,” Caped Justice said.

Instead of responding with the assent that immediately occurred to him, Call held his tongue. There was something he knew for sure, and that was that it was a bad idea to spend time with Caped Justice as a civilian.

Call had spent two years trying to keep his civilian persona completely unassociated with superheroes, to the point that Call and Convict or Radar or Caped Justice would never occur in the same sentence. It was safe. It was smart. It was necessary. Spending time with Caped Justice would make Call not only suspicious, but it would make Call a target. Yesterday was a fluke, and he shouldn’t have let it happen. One time wasn’t going to hurt anybody, so Call could still consider himself safe. Two times. Two times was asking for trouble, two times was two times too many.

Caped Justice pushed himself off the wall and started walking down the sidewalk, the direction Call had been going. He glanced back when Call didn’t follow. A shadow of a smile was still on his face, a question in his stance, a pool of potential swimming over his shoulders and down to his fingertips, across his smile and all the way to his shoes. He was buzzing with the potential, although whether it was potential protection, or potential friendship, or potential laughter, or potential something, Call didn’t know. All he could say was that spending time with Caped Justice would fulfil the potential, one way or another, and Call, surprisingly, agonizingly, hopelessly wanted to see where it would go.

Every story ever has a protagonist that does something dumb for someone else’s smile. Call hated those stories. He thought they were very, very dumb. But Caped Justice was there, and Call was a few steps away, and for some reason, Call _wanted_ to walk with him. It came into stark light in that moment that even though those stories were very, very dumb, well, Call was a very, very dumb person.

Call told himself that he stepped off his skateboard and started walking towards Caped Justice because he wanted the protection, and disregarded the target he was engraving on his own back. He ignored the fact that his eyes lingered on Caped Justice’s golden halo of hair (it still shone when the Sun hit it just right), lingered on his smile (it felt like _something_ ), and ignored the weird excitement he felt at the prospect of walking home with him. It was the protection. Call wanted the protection.

“Nice weather we’re having,” Caped Justice said as they strolled down the sidewalk, Call with his skateboard in hand. _Protection from the wolves,_ Call reminded himself, and then it wasn’t a problem anymore. He wouldn’t keep thinking about it. Emotions and potentials were elusive, and Call didn’t have time to pin them down.

“I had this weird idea in my head that you were a good conversationalist, but that’s obviously not true. Wait til the newspapers hear,” Call responded.

“You wound me,” Caped Justice said.

“I wound your reputation,” Call said.

“Well, you don’t have to do it with such delight.”

“You’re lucky I’m not maniacally rubbing my hands together and cackling.”

“I’d agree, I am _very_ lucky that you’re not doing that.”

They reached the point in the sidewalk where it swung off to the right towards the parking lot, but Call split and kept walking forward in order to reach the woods. When he stepped off the sidewalk and into the grass, though, Caped Justice didn’t follow.

“...Are you coming?” Call asked, looking back at him. Caped Justice was frozen on the sidewalk.

“Depends on where you’re going?” Caped Justice said. He glanced down the direction the sidewalk was headed, then back at Call.

“Home,” Call said, and gestured in the direction he was going, towards the woods.

“You live in the woods!?” Caped Justice said, which was made funnier by the fact that he’d been to Call’s house before.

“I cut through the woods,” Call responded. Caped Justice murmured a response, breaking eye contact with Call.

“Care to repeat that?”

“But it’s dirty,” Caped Justice said, louder this time. Call blinked a few times, and only then realized that Caped Justice’s entire outfit was impeccably free of both dirt and wrinkles, and his face was acne free to boot.

“I didn’t take you for a clean freak,” Call said, surprised.

“I’m not a clean freak, I just don’t like messes,” Caped Justice said.

“Well, it didn’t rain last night, so there won’t be any mud. You should be fine,” Call said. Caped Justice looked at Call, then looked at the woods, then looked at Call, then looked at the woods, then looked at Call, then shrugged and stepped off the sidewalk. There was hesitation written the slight bowing of his head, but he smiled confidently at Call, so they kept walking. The grass crunched under their feet in that way it does when it isn’t very well taken care of, and they trudged until they hit the tree line, pushed through the shrubbery, and found themselves within the forest.

The first immediate change Call always noticed was how different the air was. It was, if only slightly, fresher and cooler. He took a deep breath of forest air as Caped Justice looked around.

“You can’t see buildings through the trees,” he said, squinting a little.

“There aren’t buildings on the other side of them,” Call said. “The park is over there. To be specific, the rollerblading arena is the one right over there, and then once we go down a little we hit the park proper.”

“What grade did you get on the geography test, again?” Caped Justice asked, smirking, not taking his eyes off the treeline, still looking through them.

“A higher one than you did, apparently,” Call said, and Caped Justice laughed.

“Well, geography expert,” he said, finally looking back at Call again, “what direction is your house from here? I’m already turned around.”

“If you’re already turned around, wait until I blindfold you and spin you in circles. Then you’ll get really turned around.”

“Is that optional? The whole blindfolded circles thing,” Caped Justice said. Call started making his way through the woods, down his usual path past the fallen birch tree, and Caped Justice picked his careful way after Call.

“Absolutely not. And it’ll come when you least expect it,” Call said.

“Can we arrange for it to happen within 5-6 business days? I’m a busy man,” Caped Justice said. Call snickered despite himself.

“Busy watching reality shows, right,” Call said. A light breeze brushed the leaves around them, filling the air with natural static for a moment.

“Busy saving the city,” Caped Justice corrected. “And for your information, I watch only one reality show, and that is-”

“Impracticable Archipelago Extravapalooza; Hot Air Balloon Edition, yes I know,” Call cut him off. He was only slightly smug about the fact that he could recite the full name without hesitating. Havoc had referred to the show by its full name for weeks on end until Call had it drilled into him, though, so it wasn’t exactly an accomplishment.

“I was gonna say Glee, but you’ve got me there,” Caped Justice said lightly as he stepped around a particularly gnarly thorn bush. The comment caught Call by such surprise that he started laughing, which in turn made Caped Justice laugh.

At that moment, though, Call started hearing something in the back of his head.

_CallisthatyouIneedhelppleasehelpmeIneedhelp-_

Call paused in his tracks, replaying the words in his head until he understood them. This one had to be a squirrel. Ella was probably the most eloquent of all of squirrel kind, the rest usually sounded like a speeding record that barely knew English.

 _Where are you?_ Call asked.

“Call? Are you okay?”

“Uh, fine,” Call responded without thinking, already too focused on helping whoever was asking for it. Was it Jack? It sounded a little like Jack.

_I’mbythemapletreewiththe-_

Call immediately knew which maple tree Jack was by, it was a favorite among squirrels, and set out towards it without thinking.

“Call? Where are we going?” Caped Justice asked, scrambling after Call, carefully giving trees and rocks a wide berth.

“I thought I heard something over here.”

“I- okay,” Caped Justice stuttered, barely keeping up with Call’s brisk pace. Call couldn’t help it. Jack had seriously sounded like trouble.

The maple tree was down an unconventional path from where they were, through a patch of thistles and thick bushes, but Call pushed his way through the small field of thorns without stalling. Caped Justice wasn’t as resolute, eyeing the thick knee-high brush and the scattered vines covered in thorns, but he gritted his teeth and followed Call anyway, having apparently dedicated himself to sticking together. On the other side of the patch, Call could see the maple tree in front of them, slightly taller and slightly broader and slightly more imposing than the trees around them. It had a twisting system of branches that made the squirrels somewhat fond of it- running on it was fun.

Caped Justice was looking around, but Call could tell from the unfocused look in his eye that he didn’t know what he was looking for.

“Call? What did you think you heard?” Caped Justice asked.

“An animal,” Call murmured, not concentrating on Caped Justice.

_Jack? You here buddy?_

“Can you get any more specific?” Caped Justice asked, gaze finally landing on Call. Call, however, was looking everywhere but at Caped Justice, searching for Jack.

_I’monthe-_

Ground, he was on the ground, Call could tell as soon as Jack started talking to him. He immediately started looking around at the forest floor, trying to make out Jack’s form, cursing the wonders of camouflage.

“Call?”

Call’s eye caught on something near the base of the tree, furrier than any leaf or acorn had right to be. He rushed over, and sure enough, it was Jack, looking worse for wear but alive. He had three long scratches on his side. Call knelt down, and Caped Justice was already crouching next to him, looking over Jack and probably drawing the same conclusions.

“What happened to this little guy?” Caped Justice murmured.

_Owl-_

“Owl, probably,” Call said, and Caped Justice’s eyes flashed up to glance at him while he spoke. “He’s lucky to be alive.”

Jack seemed to have run out of things to say once there weren’t any more questions to be answered, although Call couldn’t blame him. He got attacked by an owl. The only problem was, Call didn’t exactly know what to do.

Caped Justice picked Jack up gingerly, cradling him in the palms of his hands, not flinching despite the blood. This was the same guy that was hesitant to walk through some bushes.

“Do you have any tissues or anything?” Caped Justice asked, not taking his eyes off Jack as Call started rifling through his backpack, looking for tissues or anything similar.

“Would a flier for a school book fair work?” Call asked, pulling said rumpled flier out of his backpack.

“Not even a little bit,” Caped Justice responded. Call shoved the flier back and kept digging. He eventually came across an old sock that didn’t even smell.

“Would a sock work?” Call asked.

“Does it smell?” Caped Justice asked.

“Not even a little bit,” Call responded. That seemed to be good enough for Caped Justice, who nodded. Call pulled out the sock and tossed it to him, and Caped Justice caught it seamlessly, beginning use it to soak up the blood around Jack’s wound.

“Would a water bottle be too much to ask?” Caped Justice said, not looking up from his careful administrations.

“Course not,” Call replied, digging a water bottle out of his backpack. It was half full and would have to do. He set it next to Caped Justice, who was finishing up. Caped Justice promptly picked up the water bottle and poured some of it onto the sock, beginning to use it to clean the wound itself.

Jack took a deep breath, shuddering, and Caped Justice slowed down in his cleaning, making his movements even lighter and gentler than before, somehow. He started murmuring kindly to Jack, any number of nothings that might provide comfort as he cleaned the wound.

A different side of Caped Justice was showing, one that wasn’t a charismatic leader or a triumphant face of a revolution, even one that wasn’t a cheesy goofball. This was all caring and kindness, and it occurred to Call that most people would have just kept walking. Call never had the luxury, not when he could hear the pain so vividly, but Caped Justice wasn’t the type of person to just keep walking.

Maybe that’s why Call was so dazed, why his chest felt so warm. He couldn’t remember the last time he met a person that stopped walking to help. He couldn’t remember the last time a person truly cared enough, even about a squirrel. Ms. Alma sat by and watched as Jasper and Call fought, Alastair spent so much time in the garage that he didn’t notice his son getting injured and coming home at two in the morning every night, Celia never talked to him unless she’d run out of people to talk to. Nobody Call was surrounded by actually cared, not that much, but here Caped Justice was, walking him home to keep him safe from wolves, gingerly holding a squirrel and focusing so much energy into keeping him breathing, when he could have just kept walking.

It was shocking, to realize all of this while his friend (?) was holding a bloody squirrel directly next to Call.

Gradually, throughout Call’s long rabbit trail of a thought process, his chest felt warmer until it was almost suffocatingly prominent, catching his throat with feelings he didn’t have a name for and shocking oddly down his arms.

“Call,” Caped Justice eventually said, shaking Call out of his slight reverie that came from watching Caped Justice help Jack.

“Hm?” Call asked, and a short pulse of warmth flared right next to Call’s dumb heart. He would’ve taken further time to follow that train of thought, those causes and effects, why he felt a little choked up for a second at the sudden sound of Caped Justice’s voice, but there was work to be done now, conversations to be had and Jacks to heal.

“There’s a first aid kit in my backpack,” Caped Justice said, and Call nodded, pulling Caped Justice’s backpack over and digging through the folders until he found the small red pouch with the white cross sitting at the bottom.

It occurred to him that it would be easy enough to find out who Caped Justice was, just by glancing at the name at the top of a paper. There was a reason they kept their identities secret, though, and Call knew all too well that it was crushing when there was somebody who knew who they were behind the mask.

Call quelled his curiosity and picked out the first aid kit, passing it to Caped Justice and rezipping his backpack.

Call scooted back to his position sitting next to Caped Justice, watching as he finished his rough cleaning of the wound and pulled open the first aid kit.

“Shouldn’t we take him to the vet or something?” Call asked.

 _No_ , Jack thought. _Novetstheotherswillmakefunofme_ -

“No,” Caped Justice said. “He’s hurt, but not very badly. It’ll heal by itself, I just want to make sure it doesn’t get infected. He’s a wild squirrel, and should be able to survive without human intervention.”

Call considered both of these responses.

“I’m fairly sure I read on a vegan website once that if you find an injured squirrel you should always get professional help,” Call said.

“Then consider me a professional and stop worrying,” Caped Justice replied as he pulled a small wrap-around bandage out of the first aid kit. He doused it lightly in disinfectant, then slowly, carefully, pulled it around Jack and tied it lightly.

“He should be able to get that knot undone himself, but I’ll leave it to his discretion on when to do that,” Caped Justice said, pulling a baby wipe out of the kit and cleaning his hands of squirrel blood. “Squirrels are smart animals. He’ll figure it out. Either way, I wanted the wound covered to keep it a little bit cleaner until it scabs over. Whether or not the bandage stays on for long enough for the wound to scab cleanly is a variable, but he’s got a chance.”

 _Hey Jack, you know what a scab is, right?_ Call asked Jack.

_OfcourseIdo-_

“You okay, Call? You’re zoning out me,” Caped Justice said, but Call wasn’t concentrating on him.

_Don’t take the wrapping off until the wound scabs._

_Butit’sclunky-_

_Trust me on this one._

“Call?”

_...ifitwereanyotherhumanI’dsayno-_

_Aw, thanks buddy._

_Thanksforsavingmylife-_

_Don’t mention it._

Jack slowly stood up, and while he looked weak, he was definitely standing, which was an improvement to stuck on the ground. He glanced at Call, then he glanced at Caped Justice, then he scrambled up the tree, immediately blending into the leaves.

Caped Justice looked after him and sighed, then looked back at Call.

“You back?” He asked.

“What do you mean?” Call asked, standing up.

“You spaced out just now,” Caped Justice said, also standing. “Were you rattled by mortality being shoved in your face?”

“Me? Rattled? Never,” Call said. Caped Justice flashed him a small smile, and something about it made Call’s heart skip. It was a small thing, and Call nearly wrote it off.

Nearly.

But the moment stuck in the back of his mind as he stood up, as Caped Justice followed, as they accidentally mixed up their backpacks for a second, as they started walking back towards Call’s house, as they kept talking and joking and Caped Justice kept smiling, smiling, smiling.

Call’s heart kept beating, beating, beating.

By the time they made it to Call’s front porch, the Sun was setting again, Caped Justice’s hair looked bright and golden again, and Call could use a thousand different words to describe everything he was feeling. Giddy, vibrant, confused. Disappointed that Caped Justice was about to leave. Some form of elated.

Caped Justice smiled again, and Call got the idea that it was his dopey, walls-down smile.

“See you around,” Caped Justice said.

“Catch you later,” Call responded, and there was no doubt in his mind that his smile matched Caped Justice’s.

They both turned away, Caped Justice going to the bakery to meet up with the other superheroes, seemingly unable to wipe the smile off his face, and Call going inside his house, eager to throw on his costume and also head to the bakery.

And if Call couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face either, well, that was just because he was having a good day. It had nothing to do with one person. Sure one person had helped the day be good, one person had made his heart skip in his chest, but that could easily be chalked up to pleasant surprise at how easy it was to talk to him.

Right. Nothing out of the ordinary was going on with Call’s feelings.

 _Late again,_ Havoc thought to Call as he climbed up the staircase out of the garage and into the living room. Call slung his backpack off and fell onto the closest couch, and Havoc sat in front of him on the floor.

“You sound like one of my teachers,” Call said, too tired to turn on his mental channel. He never realized how low he was on energy until he was melting into a couch.

“Who’re you talking to?” Alastair asked as he strolled into the connected kitchen, next to the living room. Call jumped out of his skin, turning around to see his father pulling some glasses out of a cabinet.

“Myself,” Call stuttered, his usual excuse for when he was caught. Havoc’s ears twitched as he laughed at Call, and Call bapped his smug snout.

“If you’re starting to sound like your own teachers, then we’ve got a problem,” Alastair joked, getting out plates now. “I vowed never to listen to a teacher again as soon as I got out of college.”

“It amazes me daily that you’re allowed to call yourself an adult,” Call remarked, and Alastair laughed.

Something was up. The feeling of adrenaline, of buzzing nerves and blown-out breath from being surprised by Alastair wasn’t fading away like it usually did. Call got jumpscared enough times through his life, especially through his superhero career, that he knew how he reacted to them. His blown nerves were out of the ordinary, but he certainly wasn’t going to let his dad in on that.

Havoc, very pointedly, brought Call the sweatshirt and mask he used as a costume, both of which had been balled up on the other loveseat as they had been the day prior.

 _Don’t you have places to be?_ Havoc asked as he dropped the costume into Call’s lap, and Call sighed heavily before tugging on the sweatshirt.

“Hey, dad, I’m gonna go walk Havoc, I don’t know when I’ll be back,” Call said, standing up from the couch with a lot of regret, a lot of soreness from old bruises, and a lot of alarm still coursing through him. He shoved his mask in the sweatshirt pocket.

“I was actually thinking we could do family dinner tonight,” Alastair said, using a paper towel to pull a lasagna out of the oven. Oh.

“Oh,” Call said.

“Can you walk Havoc after dinner?” Alastair asked, and Call couldn’t say no, could he?

“Uh, sure,” Call said, taking a hesitant seat at the table where Alastair already had everything set up.

 _Is being late just a hobby of yours?_ Havoc asked, dutifully laying down at Call’s feet.

“Go ahead and serve yourself a slice,” Alastair said after placing a knife on the lasagna. “I’ve just got to wash my hands and then I’ll sit down with you.”

Call went ahead and cut out a piece for Alastair, giving him the corner, slightly burned part that he knew was his dad’s favorite. Alastair sat down as Call was picking another, smaller, piece out for himself. He wanted to eat quickly and be out of the house.

“Thank you,” Alastair said.

“Thanks for making dinner,” Call replied, already digging into his lasagna. “It’s really good.”

“It would probably be better if you chewed with your mouth shut,” Alastair said, pointing at Call with his fork.

“Interesting theory,” Call said, making sure it was through another mouthful.

“I am your father, show some finesse,” Alastair said, and maybe it was purposeful that he said it through a mouthful of food, but Call really, really doubted it.

“Listen, if I have to choose between speed and finesse, I’m choosing speed,” Call said, forking another few bites into his mouth.

“I obviously didn’t raise you right, finesse is always key,” Alastair said. He forked a single bite into his mouth. Why did old people eat so slowly?

“Finesse is always key,” Call mocked, making his voice gruffer and older. He shoved more lasagna into his mouth.

“Oh the special bond between a son and his father,” Alastair said.

“You bring up the whole father thing a lot in conversation, you know that?” Call asked, coming down the last bites of his lasagna.

Alastair said something else, but Call’s concentration faded out for a moment, drowning under the onslaught of continued panicked reaction that still hadn’t gone away. He didn’t know why he wasn’t calming down, it wasn’t like he was in a fight. He was sitting down for dinner with his father. There was nothing to be on edge about.

Under the table, Havoc rammed his head into the side of Call’s (uninjured, because he wasn’t a monster) leg, causing him to jump a little (again).

 _Say no,_ Havoc said.

“No,” Call said, because he trusted Havoc implicitly.

“More leftovers, then,” Alastair said, shrugging and beginning to finish his lasagna. Call took the last bite of his.

 _He asked if you wanted seconds,_ Havoc explained. _So, spaceboy, where’d you go?_

 _I’m just zoning out, my reactions are being weird,_ Call said. Alastair mindlessly said something, and Call mindlessly responded.

 _Define weird,_ Havoc said.

 _Heightened, panicked,_ Call responded. He could feel his heart beating in his resting hands.

 _Did you not just describe your danger sense?_ Havoc asked.

Call took a long blink to drown in his own exasperation towards himself.

 _I swear I’m getting worse at recognizing it,_ Call thought to Havoc while Alastair downed the last of his water. _I just think it’s my body acting up or an out-of-place reaction._

 _You’re vastly oblivious sometimes,_ Havoc responded, his tone tired.

 _I’m vastly sleep deprived all of the time,_ Call said.

 _That’s only barely an excuse,_ Havoc said, and he stood up. _Well, wrap up the dinner, we’ve apparently got some danger to thwart._

“Thanks for sitting down with me, Call,” Alastair said. “This has been nice.”

“I agree,” Call said, standing up and taking his and Alastair’s plates to the sink. When he took Alastair’s plate, he officially took away his dad’s option to prolong the dinner. It made him look like a good son, though.

“We don’t do it enough, honestly,” Alastair said from somewhere behind Call. “You do know that I care, though, right?”

“Of course, dad,” Call said, although he hardly knew what he was saying through the curtain of his danger sense.

“Good, good,” Alastair said, and if Call had the concentration to be present, he would have heard the tinge in Alastair’s voice.

“I, uh, have to go walk Havoc now,” Call said.

“Okay,” Alastair responded, mouth quirked downward.

“Okay,” Call said, and left down the staircase, Havoc padding patiently at his heel.

 _That was different than usual,_ Havoc thought as the two of them left the house, Call putting on his mask and pulling up his hood, then ducking his head so he’d be at least a little inconspicuous.

 _My entire day is being different than usual,_ Call responded. His concentration was coming back, which was odd, but he could assume that the danger was something across town that had resolved itself.

 _In a good or bad way?_ Havoc asked. Call huffed out through his nose, thinking about Jasper and Aaron and Caped Justice, and now his father.

 _Both,_ Call said.

His phone, still in his pocket, chimed a text tone, which was odd, because Call never texted anybody. He pulled it out quickly, glancing at the message.

**-Group with Celia and Drew, Apparently-**

**Celia:** hey guys this is the history project group chat

 **Drew, Apparently:** dope r we gonna meet up or smthn? cause im busy 2nite

 **Celia:** i mean i was going to suggest we do something tonight but i guess not if you’re busy

 **Celia:** what’re you up to tho?

 **Drew, Apparently:** stuff.

 **Celia:** way to be specific

 **Drew, Apparently:** its none of ur business

 **Celia:** geez, calm down, okay

 **Celia:** call? have you got anything to say?

 **You:** nope.

With that, Call muted the chat and put his phone back into his pocket, moving his eyes back to the sidewalk and his concentration back to meeting up with the other two superheroes at the bakery.

If the rest of his day had been any indication of a pattern, he was about to have a hell of a night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it should be illegal for me to get writer's block when I already update so infrequently, come on, universe. So, hopefully, now that the dark miasma that haunts me from time to time has been banished back to it's original realm, I can maybe spend more time working on this maybe?? Don't hold me to that
> 
> Shoutout to TQSKatrap for lowkey predicting a few things that were happening in this chapter?? Wassup you cool kid??? Did you hack my outline for this and read it?? Hey readers, you, too, may develop psychic powers when you comment (REALLY ALL OF YOU THAT HAVE COMMENTED AO3 KEEPS CRASHING WHEN I TRY TO RESPOND BUT I LOVE YOU ALL, YOU LIL MYSTICS)
> 
> Last zesty comment before you go enjoy the chapter: will I ever come up with good superhero names? Who knows. 
> 
> enojy!!

“It’s horrid.” 

Call, Convict and Caped Justice were picking through the alleyways where Call and Havoc had first encountered the Enemy’s wolves, only a few nights ago. Despite all the rain in the area over the past couple of days, it still smelled of bile and conflict. Call could pick out scratch marks left on the walls that were wicked enough to be convincing evidence for any urban legend.

Call was recounting the events of that dark and stormy night to Convict and Caped Justice. He’d gotten as far as the moment he saw the figure on the roof and realized the wolf army was being mind controlled when Convict cut in, finally getting over the shock of the words she was hearing. 

“It’s horrid,” she said, voice cold, face (or what Call could see of it around the mask), twisted. Caped Justice’s expression, behind her, matched it resentment for resentment. 

“Hasn’t this city suffered enough at the hands of that abomination of a superpower?” Caped Justice asked, anger rolling his tone. Call’s lackluster attempt to agree with them caught in his throat, and he coughed to cover it. Neither of them even gave him a second glance, continuing to rake their gazes over the ruined alley instead. 

_ You look like you’re suffocating, what’s up?  _ Havoc asked. Sweet, concerned Havoc. 

_ Stubbed my toe,  _ Call said. He didn’t know if it was convincing. 

_ You’re so dumb,  _ Havoc responded fondly. Convincing, then.

See, days ago, Call would have jumped into agreeing with his friends. He knew the story of their city as well, if not better than, the next guy. Ever since Parable lost his superpowers and Patriarch went insane trying to restore them, ever since his power of hypnotization turned to mind controlling, ever since La Rinconada, well, Magista didn’t take well to any form of mind control. Even back then, there had been a few protesting organizations against Parable and Patriarch’s shared and apparently super ability to hypnotize, and their continued use of this power against their enemies. Against the city’s enemies. But their voices were small against the outcry of gratitude coming from everybody else. 

Now, if anything, it was the opposite. 

After La Rinconada and the deaths of Decline and Miri (and Auto’s subsequent disappearance), Magista was a hub of outrage against mind control. It was the worst possible crime somebody could do in this city, as the response to mind control anymore was so immediate, so passionate, so  _ ferocious.  _ For good reason.

For good reason. 

At least, that’s what Call would have said a few days ago. 

Now, he remembered all too clearly the rush of feelings he had as he pushed his will into the foggy head of a monster wolf. He remembered how desperate he had been to save himself and Caped Justice, how scared he had been that they’d finally found an adversary they couldn’t handle, how badly he’d wanted the wolf to turn and look at Ella, how vile the inside of the wolf’s head felt, how he had shoved his way in, and the way all of the energy drained out of his limbs for a moment from the effort it had taken. 

He remembered the moment his thought became the wolf’s thought, how it was pushed away fiercely, then pulled in magnetically, like the tide, just as unstoppable. Then, the thought lingered for a moment, and it clicked into place. 

Call had been replaying that one minute he’d mentally wrestled with the wolf so many times each night, after Havoc and Alastair had gone to bed and Call had no right to be awake anymore. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t think about it, but he couldn’t not think about it. 

Two days ago, mind control had been evil, abominable, monstrous,  _ horrid _ . 

Tonight, it was Call. It was his power, his choice, what ran through the blood in his veins. 

“Radar?” Caped Justice asked, snapping Call from his thoughts, forcing his focus back to the superheroes and the alleyway. Call’s eyes immediately found Caped Justice’s, and Call blinked at the anger he saw. The fury. Only half an hour previous, those eyes had looked at Call laughter-filled and heartwarming. 

“What happened after you saw the Enemy on the roof?” he asked, and Call realized he’d paused in telling them the story. 

“Well, I used the ladder there to climb onto the roof, because I wanted to punch this guy in the face,” Call said, and Convict snorted. “Also because I figured the wolves would stop if their commander stopped. When I got to the top of the roof, I couldn't see anything very well, let alone the Enemy. I asked him his name, called him a jerkface, run of the mill.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed one of these days,” Caped Justice noted from where he was standing near the ladder. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a look of concentration on his face as he listened to Call. 

“If you get killed for calling a super villain a jerkface, I will personally bring you back from the dead to give you a high five,” Convict immediately told Call. Unlike Caped Justice, she was anything but static and concentrated. She was investigating all over the alley, prodding slash marks and eyeing stains, half listening to Call. 

“Thank you, finally somebody who understands,” Call replied, and Convict gave him a smile in response. “Anyway. The Enemy was wearing a full mask, so I couldn’t see his face at all. He walked across the roof to me, told me his name, and put his hand on my shoulder. I immediately passed out. When I woke up, I was laying in the alley and I felt like I’d been pummeled by vicious racquetballs.”

“Did he throw you off the roof?” Convict asked, vaguely horrified. 

_ Yes,  _ Havoc said,  _ it took years off my life.  _

“According to Havoc, yes,” Call said. 

“And that’s the end of it?” Caped Justice asked, an emotion in his voice that Call couldn’t pinpoint. When Call glanced at him, he looked upset, the corners of his mouth tugged down and an angry set to his shoulders. 

“Anticlimactic, I know, I only got thrown off a roof,” Call said. Convict snickered, but it lacked its usual humor, and Call’s focus fell more to the boiling look in her eye as she stared at the roof Call had been thrown off of. 

_ Well what’s up with those two?  _ Call asked Havoc, still watching Caped Justice and Convict as they steamed to themselves and apparently thought through Call’s story.

_ They’re mad at the Enemy for throwing you off a roof,  _ Havoc responded, easy as that. Call blinked. 

_ The Enemy is mind controlling an army of monsters and has set loose a potentially lethal virus on thousands of innocents,  _ Call reminded Havoc,  _ and they’re upset at him for throwing me off of a roof? It’s probably the least despicable thing he’s done all week. _

_ That’s how relationships work.  _ Havoc said, using his back paw to scratch under his ear.  _ To the rest of the city, they’re superheroes, but to you, they’re friends. As soon as the Enemy throws you off a roof, it’s personal.  _

“I’m surprised you don’t have a concussion or anything,” Caped Justice muttered, scowling at the ground. 

“A bear caught me,” Call responded offhandedly, paying more attention to his conversation with Havoc.

_ I don’t even know if we’re friends,  _ Call told Havoc, glancing between Convict and Caped Justice again.  _ I mean, they laugh at my jokes and I laugh at theirs and I look forward to seeing them every night and there was that one time we played tag but otherwise our relationship is strictly professional.  _

Dogs can’t roll their eyes (if Havoc could, his sass would become too powerful, so it’s probably for the best), but Havoc did the mental equivalent. 

_ They’re your friends, Call, even if none of you realize it yet,  _ Havoc said,  _ and get used to it, because they seem like the type that’ll stick around for a while. _

Call started thinking this over when a knot of unease curled in his gut. It spread like an ink stain, crawling up his throat and making his heart race with nerves. 

This time, Call recognized his danger sense. 

He quickly worked out where his sense was leading him (a few blocks down, on the corner of Pitch and East streets), and how dangerous the threat seemed to be (mild to moderate). He figured it was something he could handle quickly, then come back to the other two and work out what their plan was. 

“Hey guys,” Call said, causing Caped Justice and Convict to look at him, “my danger sense is acting up, so if you don’t mind I’m just going to hop o-”

“No way, we’re coming with you,” Convict said, beginning to walk over to Call. 

“We’re partners, remember?” Caped Justice added, pushing himself off the wall. “Besides, what if it’s the Enemy or one of his cronies?”

Call recalled all too well the swimming, severe reactions his danger sense gave him when the Enemy was up to something. What he was feeling now was nothing compared to that.

“It’s not the Enemy, I can tell,” Call said. “Seriously, it’s only a mild thing, I’ll probably burp on it and it’ll leave. It’s not too far away either, I’ll be right back,” Call said, emphasizing the last few words. Convict’s mouth twisted, and she sighed.

“Fine,” she said. “Caped Justice and I will finish our investigation here, see if we can’t find anything. You go take care of whatever it is.” Call smiled and turned on his heel, leaving before they could dupe him and follow. 

“Take Havoc with you,” Caped Justice told the back of Call’s head, “and send him back to get us if you need backup.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Call said over his shoulder, and Havoc stood up to follow him. 

Caped Justice’s eyes caught on Call’s for a second too long before they both turned around and set to their respective tasks. 

“We’re headed to the corner of Pitch and East,” Call told Havoc, blinking but unable to shake that lingering moment with Caped Justice, thoughts staying frustratingly, swirlingly stagnant on it. 

Call would have found that moment, not normal per se, but expected, if he weren’t in costume. For some reason, the relationship Call was building with Caped Justice had that nature to it, one of prolonged eye contact and unspoken words moments before turning backs and goodbyes. Call had come to terms with it.

With Radar, though? Caped Justice was friends with Radar, if that, and that was it. They played tag and fought crime. They didn’t have moments. 

Was Caped Justice figuring out his identity? 

They had about two and a half blocks to go before they reached the corner of Pitch and East, so Call shared his thoughts with Havoc. Havoc hmm’d. 

_ He’s probably drawing a few conclusions, if only subconsciously,  _ Havoc thought.  _ Recognizing a speech pattern, or your profile, or the way you walk.  _

_ “ _ Well, what do I do?” Call asked, a little panicked but not  _ too  _ panicked. To save face. 

_ Let him find out who you are and make an actual friend, for once,  _ Havoc thought.  _ Have him over for tea. Introduce him to your dad. Beat him in robot fights. The usual. _

“Seriously, Havoc.”

_ I’m being serious! You need a friend that isn’t an overgrown dog.  _

“It’s too dangerous for us to know each other’s civilian identities, it could be used against us,” Call reminded him, and Havoc sighed a long sigh. They were still two blocks down from the corner. 

_ Yeah, I didn’t think that would work, but it was worth a shot.  _

“Got any other ideas while you’re at it?” 

_ Do something distinctly un-Call-like. Tell him you hate coffee. _

“But I love coffee!”

_ Call loves coffee. Radar loves justice. Particularly the caped variety.  _

“Shut up, gross.” Call felt a blush creep up his neck, but his usual vehement disagreement to the concept lacked its passion. That was odd. If Call were arguing with himself in the mirror, he’d try saying it again, stronger this time, but he was arguing with Havoc, so he couldn’t.

_ What’s gross? The coffee? _

“I hate this. You’re lucky I gave him my Coffee Is God’s One True Gift To Man speech earlier when we were walking home and this’ll actually work.”

_ No, you’re lucky that this’ll work. I personally hope he puts two and two together and makes you guys friends four-ever. _

“That wasn’t even a little bit funny.”

_ Tough crowd.  _

Call and Havoc reached the corner, effectively bringing their conversation to a stop. The corner was unadorned with traffic lights, too far off the recognizable streets to deem a necessity for organization, and was shadowed with beaten storefronts down the length of both its streets. Lights shone through the stained windows, revealing everything from roaring business to pin drop silence, countryside stillness. 

There were no immediate signs of danger. 

Whatever they were after must’ve been on the move, and from what Call could gather (once he stopped and concentrated), the danger was now centered around the barber shop about one street down from where they were. 

“Walking target,” Call mumbled, setting off towards the barber shop. Havoc sniffed the air, trying to get a sense of their prey. His tail stopped absentmindedly wagging.

_ Hey Call,  _ he thought,  _ you’re not gonna like this. _

“Oh, do tell,” Call said, heart spinning at the sudden anticipation.

_ We’re definitely in pursuit of a certain deWinter.  _

Havoc was right, Call did not like this. 

_ How do you know what he smells like?  _ Call asked, switching to the mental channel as they started getting closer to the barber shop. He peered through the darkness, hoping for a glimpse of a shadow or a hint of movement.

_ I’ve met him before, insolent human, don’t question my ways.  _

There was a clatter of kicked rocks from the abandoned storefront two doors down, and Call felt the word  _ bingo _ more than said it. The door to the storefront opened and shut, and in the time between Call had barely caught a glimpse of a familiar silhouette. 

How perfectly dramatic.

Call and Havoc stalked over to the abandoned storefront, and Call felt strangely giddy. They were about to catch Jasper in the act, past a point of no return, and Jasper would be forced to fess up. The morning’s vices were forgotten in favor of the night’s victories.

_ Can you hear anything inside?  _ Call asked, and Havoc snarled for a second.

_ Yeah, bad whistling. He’s trying to be jaunty I guess, but it just sounds like sad violin.  _

_ Noted. _

Call waited a breath, pausing to fully consider the situation. There were no lights coming from inside, obviously, leaving any activity inside of the store in relative invisibility. There were boards over the windows, paint chipping off plaster, and the thinning fabric of the awning was held up by thin white poles that oozed the essence of a thing utterly temporary. 

If there were ever a setting so fitting for a story, this building of degenerate plexiglass was the perfect place for his and dickwad’s saga to come to a climax. 

Call pushed open the door and walked into the darkened building, kicking grit from the sidewalk in with his steps. Havoc stalked in behind him, and it was moments such as this, seeing the silhouette of Havoc as he strode confidently into a confrontation at Call’s hip, that Call was reminded that Havoc was a predator. 

Dim light shone in from the street, so Call gave himself enough time to zero in on Jasper’s position before kicking the door shut behind him.

The light cut out. 

Jasper had been, and Call assumed he still was, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, head tilted to face the ceiling. He was holding a rock loosely in his right hand. Though there hadn’t been anything particularly interesting to the ceiling, Jasper’s eyes were glued to it, unblinking and unwavering and yet unfocused. 

Of course, now the room was dark, so suddenly the possibilities as to what Jasper was doing were endless, à la Schrodinger. 

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” Jasper said, his voice a defeated drum.

“I didn’t come here for one,” Call responded easily, and he somehow sounded more sinister than he meant to. The darkness of the room highlighted the darkness in his voice. 

“Then leave,” Jasper said. “I’m tired of this game. Give it up.” 

That wasn’t a request, Call could tell, nor a suggestion. Jasper was demanding it of Call, that he stop this. Of course Jasper could never ask for anything without making it a demand. Of course he expected Call to fold. Of course there was a leaking thread of danger behind his tone. 

Danger.

Come to think of it, this was the first time Call’s danger sense had ever been set off by Jasper, which could mean any number of things. Maybe Jasper was only ever ditching class, and now was he actually doing something dangerous. Or maybe Jasper had never been a threat to Call, never genuinely wanted to hurt him, until tonight. Or maybe Jasper could hack Call’s superpower that he didn’t even know about and convince it that he wasn’t dangerous. 

In the end, it was tonight that Jasper was dangerous, tonight that the two of them were alone in the dark of an abandoned building, tonight that Jasper was walking around town and holding rocks in his right hand and demanding that Call leave.

Call also figured it was tonight that Jasper would get what was coming to him. 

“I didn’t come here for an explanation,” Call said, “because I came here for you.”

Jasper started saying something, but Havoc growled, loud and harsh, and Jasper immediately shut up, which was a surprise to everybody in the room. Call cleared his throat before he started talking again.

“I didn’t come here for whatever lies or insults you would tell me, and I didn’t come here for trickery, and I didn’t come here for camaraderie. I came here to stop you from whatever you’re about to do, not for the sake of our arguments, but for the sake of the city. I couldn’t care less about you, Jasper. Say whatever the hell you want. I gave you the chance to speak and be listened to, but that time has passed and whatever opportunity you had is officially crushed. So here we are. I’m done listening to you. All I’m here to do is react to whatever chaos you’re about to bring about, and if you get jailed for it, then I won’t say, ‘I told you so,’ just to save you whatever pride you may have left.”

A lot of things grow in the dark. Magic, moss, intention. Apparently, Call’s confidence. 

Jasper didn’t say anything, and Call wouldn’t have listened to him if he had. He wasn’t here for an explanation, or for Jasper, or for proof. He was here for the danger, and he was gone with it. However, he couldn’t deny that if he somehow got proof or an explanation along the way, he’d start jumping for joy. 

A shuffling noise of moving clothes and scattering gravel shook from where Jasper had been sitting. From the sound of the yawn, Jasper stood up and stretched. Call stayed frozen, fear growing in a way that made him think it was his danger sense which made him more afraid. Not that he dropped his cool exterior. 

Things that grow in the dark: footsteps, corrupt smiles, silhouettes. Apparently, Call’s fear.

With a  _ thump, thump, thump,  _ which could have been Jasper’s footsteps or Call’s heartbeat, Jasper stalked closer and closer until he and Call were a foot away from each other. Not that they could see the other person.

Things that grow in the dark: presence, breath, tension. Apparently, Call’s frustration. 

“Your confidence is made all the more ironic by how many pieces of the puzzle you’re missing,” Jasper said, in that tone that always rubbed Call the wrong way. 

Havoc bristled.

The same arguments they’d been having all day stirred in Call’s head,  _ I’d have the full story if you told me, stop being so frustratingly vague, you obviously aren’t on the bad side so why are you so hesitant to prove your allegiance to the good side.  _ None of them worked the first time, or the second, or the third, or the fourth, or all day.  _ None _ of them worked. 

They were past the point of talking this out.

They were probably past that point a long time ago.

“Back off,” Call said. His danger sense was rolling his stomach, but the sudden, anger-filled energy that ran through him offset whatever upset his superpower was causing. He curled his hands into fists.

Despite the darkness, Call could see the, “or what?” on the tip of Jasper’s tongue. Jasper knew or what, though. They weren’t in school now, and there were perfectly few witnesses in an abandoned building.

Call was a superhero, and Jasper was powerless against him, that’s what.

Havoc tensed next to Call.

“Stop acting high and mighty, would you? Must I remind you of the blackmail?” Jasper said, his scowl clear in his voice.

Something came over Call, and he smiled. He smiled the way he smiled when they were interrogating Lightning, the way he smiled when they taunted the Enemy over broadcast, the way he smiled when Lightning held a knife to his throat and thought it would keep him there.

Call smiled, and he said, “who would believe you?” 

The dark room felt like a vacuum, then, sucking all of the sound from the air and leaving a choked, tense quiet that they could only revel in as it filled the room to the corners. 

“You act weird at school, and your dog is identical, and-“ Jasper’s speech was dulled when he was losing. What an unfortunate tactic.

“I am a selfish, jerky, loner as far as they know,” Call said, appreciating, not for the first time, how well his reputation protected him. He never talked to people at school, and he made it clear that he didn’t care about them. Superheroes weren’t jerks, or at least they cared about other people, or at least they wouldn’t scowl at their peers when asked for homework answers. Call didn’t act like a generous, heroic person. If anything, he acted like the villain.

“The news outlets! They’d jump at any lead on your identities in a heartbeat,” Jasper said.

“Jasper,” Call responded, “I’m disabled. They wouldn’t believe you.”

It was true. Call doubted people would believe him if he told them. Everybody figured his disability kept him from doing things, or thought that because he couldn’t run or that his balance wasn’t always perfect that he couldn’t  _ do  _ stuff. Sure, it wasn’t easy, but he could still do stuff. Of course he could do stuff. He just needed to work at it a bit more. 

Not that the news outlets would ever think that way.

Which essentially made Call untouchable.

Call could pinpoint the moment Jasper realized that, because Jasper shifted ever so slightly backwards. Call felt oddly giddy, between the amount of adrenaline he had and being hyped up on danger sense alarms, but he hardly ever won against Jasper. Havoc’s tail started slowly wagging. 

That being said, Call could also pinpoint the exact moment that Jasper recollected himself back into his overbearing self, because the room got a degree cooler. 

Maybe it was the wind.

It probably wasn’t.

“No matter,” Jasper said, his voice chilly. “A single rumor is enough in our school, you know that.”

Hell. He was right.

“...But now’s not the time for that,” Jasper continued. “I have things to do tonight. Important things. Things that aren’t dealing with the likes of you. So if you don’t mind-“

“Not gonna happen,” Call immediately cut back. “You’re not going anywhere until I know you won’t pose a threat.”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

“Then I guess we’re about to have a long night,” Call growled back. 

Circles.

As long as neither of them folded, all they were ever going to get from each other was circles, circles, and more hellish circles. They were stuck in their own cycle of uncooperation. Call was  _ sick  _ of it 

Call was sick of Jasper.

“I don’t know how often I have to tell you-” Call started.

“I don’t know how often I have to tell you that you don’t have the full story,” Jasper interrupted. His self-satisfied smile translated into his voice. 

Frustration rose in Call’s throat, boiling. Havoc bumped his shoulder against Call’s leg, a warning, but Call hardly felt it. 

“You’re such a bastard, you know that?” Call said. 

“Say it to my face,” Jasper said. Call felt him lean a little closer, just to get in Call’s personal space.

“I already told you,  _ back off! _ ” Call spat, roughly pushing Jasper back. Jasper stumbled, exclaiming sounds but not words, while Call stood. His mind was reeling. He rarely took the first shot. 

“Why, you-” Jasper huffed, and he stood up. Havoc barked loudly and jarringly, but it only served to disturb the room even more. Jasper took two quick steps closer to Call, and Call flinched on instinct more than on visual information.

It was still dark as sin inside the room, which was probably why Jasper missed, paired with Call’s flinch.

“Look, Jasper-” Call started, but before he could say any more, Jasper was already swinging again, aim guided by the sound of Call’s voice. 

Dark as it was in the room, there was a burst of color when Jasper’s punch landed, vivid pain shooting through Call’s nose and cheekbone. Call’s thoughts started blurring together, shot and confused and  _ stinging, ouch _ .

Call felt more than saw Havoc crouching, breaths away from leaping on Jasper. Through the muddling pounding in his head and general current lack of understanding of the situation, Call dug his hand into Havoc’s scruff, effectively holding him back. At the same time, Call started leaning on Havoc for support, his legs getting a little weak beneath him. He kept expecting the pain to fade, and it kept persisting. 

At some point, Call realized Jasper was silent. Odd, for such a loudmouth that loved the sound of his own voice. Odd, for how loud everything sounded through the rushing in Call’s ears. Silence. Silence was a new concept. Silence might mean something. 

“Alright, Jasper,” Call said, somehow managing to get his tongue working, if anything. “You’ve made your point. There’s no reason to be suspicious of you, you’re definitely not a threat, I should just let you go.” 

_ Amazing,  _ Havoc thought to Call, his concern leaking through with the words,  _ you can get punched in the face and your sass only gets stronger. A true marvel. _

“I…” Jasper said. Havoc snarled at him, low and deep and malicious, like a volcano.

“I have to go,” Jasper said again, this time his voice pitched higher. Well, anyone would be scared of being in the same room as a volcano. 

“You’re not…” Call started to say, but he started tripping over his own words as his head pounded harder. He could hear Jasper leaving, feel Jasper moving past him, but he couldn’t summon the strength to move himself past where he was. He felt like he was rooted, into the ground and into Havoc, arms and legs the only things keeping him in control of the pain roaring through his head, and he couldn’t move, he couldn’t give that up. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Call slurred weakly as the door opened, as the door closed. 

_ Are you okay?  _ Havoc immediately asked, any previous malice gone into thin air. 

_ We need to go after him,  _ Call responded, slowly taking his weight off Havoc to stand on his own. The pain followed him, rising, pounding. Call took a shaky step.

_ Call, sit down, I don’t know what’s wrong but if you’re reacting like this you probably need medical attention,  _ Havoc said, ever pragmatic. Didn’t Havoc understand, though? They had to go after Jasper. That was the whole reason they came out here.

Call went to tell this to Havoc, talk out the situation, change the subject, but with his attempt to focus his thoughts came another stab of pain behind his eyes. It hitched his breathing, for a second.

When Call could focus again, he was sitting on the ground, and Havoc was staring at him. 

_ Wait here,  _ Havoc said,  _ I’ll be back with help. _

Once again, Call could do nothing but sit and be in pain, his head too electrified with burning. 

_ I mean it, don’t move,  _ Havoc repeated, and then he was gone, sliding out the door (he learned how to open doors a long time ago) and padding down the street.

Call sat.

His head hurt. 

Jasper hit hard. 

\--

No light accompanied the arrival of Convict and Caped Justice, which was all the better for Hurting Head McGee a.k.a Call. Havoc had led them down to where he was, and now they were kneeling in front of him, squinting through the darkness, trying to discern what was wrong. They kept asking questions, but Call’s tongue kept stumbling too much to answer. 

His headache was subsiding, that was the good news. In the amount of time it had taken for Havoc to come back, the pain had gone from unbearable to barely bearable. Call didn’t want to ruin this vague peace, so he was hesitant to move, or speak, and just let the pain and blood rush through his head with every beat of his heart. 

Ever, ever so slightly, the pain was fading, the stabbing becoming poking. 

“Radar, what did this to you? We need to diagnose what’s wrong,” Convict said. Call considered answering, maybe he finally could, but a quick beat of his heart and burn of pain and he decided against it again, focusing on breathing.

“Do you think we should call an ambulance?” Caped Justice asked, panic lacing his tone worse than Havoc’s. Odd, because Call would have expected him to be the most composed. 

Either way, probably the last thing Call wanted was to go to the hospital for a punch to the face, so he gathered all the breath in his body and all the will he had left in his limbs and said: “No.”

“Oh, thank God, you’re still being stubborn,” Convict said. Call couldn’t laugh, or respond, but he twitched a smile onto his mouth. The thought of expending energy was a less insurmountable one, now that he’d done it once. 

“Does that mean you’re feeling better?” Caped Justice asked.

“Still hurts,” Call responded, mouth tasting bitter through the perception of pain. “Less.”

“Less, less, that’s good,” Caped Justice mumbled to himself, while Convict searched Call’s face again.

“Ah, you’re getting bruising around your eye,” Convict said. “Or, from what I can see around the mask.” That was where the pain was coming from, so Call was hardly surprised. “Did you get hit in the face?”

“Yes,” Call murmured. He got really, really hit in the face. 

“Black eye, then,” Convict said, sitting back on her heels. “Ouch.”

“I’m pretty sure if you experience intense pain from a black eye, you’re supposed to immediately seek medical help,” Caped Justice said. 

“I’m fine,” Call said. “Hurts less.”

“You already said.”

“Lesser than less.”

Caped Justice ran a hand through his hair while Convict stared at the ground.

“You know, I’m pretty sure I recall you saying you could burp on this danger and it would go away,” Convict said. 

“There was 100% more punching than I anticipated,” Call said, the breadth of the sentence surprising him. He was getting his breath back, getting his head back. His thoughts were getting clearer and clearer, and a wave of relief crashed over him, as opposed to a wave of pain. Sure his head was still pounding, but now only as effectively as a maraca in a sea of drum beats. He could pull through. 

“I think that was more than five syllables,” Caped Justice said.

“You think?” Call asked. 

“Fast recovery,” Caped Justice responded, some worry still left in his tone.

“It’s because I iced the injury,” Convict hummed, pushing herself to her feet and stretching. “Froze some of the water vapor in here. Your mask will hold it in place well enough. As weird as it sounds, icing a black eye always helps significantly.”

Call blinked. Come to think of it, the relief around his throbbing eye was cold. 

“You’re an angel,” Call said to Convict, completely and utterly sincere for once in his life. 

“No problem,” Convict said. “You’d better ice that injury to high heaven once you get home, though.” She pointed at Call in an act of prosecution. There was nothing he could do but agree.

“Can you stand?” Caped Justice asked, sounding doubtful. Call blinked, then took gulp of air, and stood up. 

For a second, everything was swimming, but then it all evened out, sturdy and nearly painless and unembellished with splashes of color. Havoc immediately trotted over to Call, tail wagging wildly as he pushed against Call’s side. 

“Well, he’s excited,” Convict noted, laugh in her voice. 

“Who wouldn’t be?” Call asked. “It’s good to have me back.”

“...isn’t that supposed to be our line?” Caped Justice asked, amused. Call could hear the worry evaporating out of him, out of the room. Good. They didn’t need any more of that. 

“You hesitated on the cue. I’m improvising. Theater 101,” Call responded, brushing spare plaster dust off his clothes. 

“Ah, I forgot, we’re part of an epic drama,” Caped Justice quipped. 

“All the world’s a stage, dearest Duke Senior. That’s theater 102,” Call quickly said. Briefly, he was afraid the joke was too nerdy and obscure, but Convict chuckled, so it was all right.

It was all right. 

There was a moment of pause, then Caped Justice popped his knuckles and let out a long breath, and Convict nodded to herself, once and quick and sharp, convinced of one thing or another. Whatever wavelength there was, they were both privy to it.

“So,” Caped Justice said flatly, and the entire tone of the room changed, from Shakespeare jokes to limelights and danger. Not directed at Call, necessarily. Directed at a phantom that was about to take shape. “What happened, exactly?” 

Call started absentmindedly petting Havoc, thinking about his answer. The other two couldn’t know his identity, or that somebody else did. But they had to stop Jasper, didn’t they?

Even with that thought, the feeling of danger started curling around Call, particularly highlighted by the remnants of his headache. Danger, somewhere in the city. Jasper, somewhere in the city. 

“Well,” Call said. “I’ve confirmed a suspect.”


End file.
